Question Time With Sheason Fisher
by Sheason
Summary: A companion piece to "New Vegas: Sheason's Story," where Sheason Fisher will answer your lingering questions about Sheason's Story. Strap in, folks, because the characters have gone more than a little bit Meta on us. Obviously, this isn't canon; this is a coping mechanism for the author, because he can't afford therapy. Anonymous "questions" will be deleted, no exceptions.
1. Honest Hearts

The lights began to rise, revealing the interior of a lounge that would look right at home in the 50's. There were tables and wall panels made of dark mahogany; seats and booths backed in rich red leather, held in place with round brass studs; every light hanging on the walls and from the ceiling was surrounded by green glass; a smoky haze filled the circulating around the lazily spinning fans.

There was only one occupant in this lounge, and he was sitting at the table in the exact center of the room. His tousled mane of brown hair had a few flecks of grey, matching his beard, and did little to conceal the vibrant blue of his eyes – or the pair of scars on his face. As he looked up with a smile, he reached for the bottle of whiskey on the table with his cybernetic arm, and began pouring himself another glass.

"Oh, hello there!" he said, in a jovial tone to match his smile. "It's nice to see all of you again. I'm Sheason Fisher. You may know me from my starring role in 'New Vegas: Sheason's Story,' as well as my appearance in the first chapter of 'A Completely Different Night at the Inventory'."

He paused, thinking on that last one, looking at his surroundings.

"Wait, are we in the Inventory right now? Kinda looks like it, but..." he shook his head. "Nah, nevermind. S'not important. I'm Sheason Fisher. Not to be confused with the _other _Sheason Fisher, from World of Warcraft. As far as I'm aware, _that_ Sheason is currently in a state of limbo with his story on hold. Again. See, the author can't find the motivation to write anything set in Azeroth. Understandable, really, considering the dystopian business practices enacted by Activision Blizzard and their CEO, prolapsed anus given human form, Bobby Kotick. I'd be annoyed too if I was playing a game made by a company boasting record profits in one breath, and then moments later, lays off a whopping 800 people – literally 8% of the company – for no good reason."

Sheason paused once more to take a sip of his drink.

"I'm _also_ not to be confused with the other, _other _Sheason, the pen name of the author currently writing what you are now reading. Because, _of course_ he calls himself Sheason. Why bother coming up with a different name?" He chuckled softly. "Confused yet? I don't blame you. Honestly, he's just all around terrible at coming up with names. Among other things..."

"OI!" a loud voice bellowed. "Stop stallin' an' git to th' fuckin' point, motherfucker!" Cass appeared from the other side of the room, and immediately made her way to Sheason's table. "We're here fer a reason, remember? We ain't comin' out've retirement just fer the fuck've it, y'know."

"Right you are, Cass," Sheason said. She nodded, leaning back in her chair and propping her feet on the table.

"Fuckin' a. I'm always right."

"Okay, so, here's the deal," Sheason said, turning his attention back to the 4th wall. "The reason there hasn't been much activity here as of late is because when the author brought my adventures to a close, he tried to start on his next project. He figured, reasonably enough, that actually completing a project for once in his life - a feat he had never managed before - meant that he could do it again. His plan was simple: stop writing fanfiction, write something original, hire an agent, get it sent to a publisher, and then begin an actual career as an author."

"Shit ain't gone t'plan," Cass blurted out.

"Yeah, that's putting it mildly," Sheason agreed. He pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket, and began to look it over. "So, since he is, and I'm paraphrasing here: 'resigned to the fact that he is a Mediocre White Man destined to live out the rest of his days in a tedious job he hates with his dreams forever unfulfilled,' he's come back here." Once Sheason was finished, he crumpled up the paper and tossed it over his shoulder.

"Tell 'em th' best part, an' why he's dragged th' two of us out here fer this fuckin' dog'n pony show," Cass chuckled. Sheason grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm getting to that, keep your pants on," he said with a sigh. "Okay, so he's wanted to do something for a while, and he should've done it ages ago. You know, like, two years ago, back when it was actually relevant: an FAQ/Q&A for... well, 'Sheason's Story.' He still occasionally gets people asking about things, and he wanted to help clear up any lingering questions, misconceptions, or headscratchers related to the story. Of course, getting it to a place where people can read it is a bit of a problem, since nobody reads this story on the Deviantart mirror, he doesn't really use that site anymore, and he has no other way of contacting the people who actually still read his story on _this_ site, except by posting **another** story."

"But there's a bit've a hitch with that plan," Cass said. "This fuckin' site don't allow somethin' straightforward like that. S'gotta be _fiction_. It lit'rally says 'No FAQ's' in the rules."

"And while neither of us," Sheason gestured back and forth, "really give a shit about breaking stupid rules, the idiot writing this doesn't want to get banned by the mods on the only platform where people still read his chicken scratch. So that's why you get us as your framing device! And, since this isn't even really canon, we can go ahead and break the 4th wall as much as we want, and nobody can stop us!"

"So, if this ain't canon, does that mean we're in th' Inventory'r somethin' like that?" Cass asked; she tipped her hat forward, and laced her fingers behind her head.

"Maybe? I'm honestly not sure where we're supposed to be. It might be... like... Inventory-adjacent? Is that a thing?"

"Fucked if I know. Still, we're probably gonna need t'find some way t'keep this interestin', if only fer our own sanity," Cass added, despite looking like she was about ready to fall asleep. Sheason just shrugged.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," he said, turning back, once again, to the 4th wall. "Anyway, let's get cracking. There are two questions he's been asked, over and over again, so we should probably start there. First is 'When are you going to do Honest Hearts?' and 'How, exactly, did the Enclave survive?' Now, the Enclave answer is..." Sheason winced, gritting his teeth. "... it's long."

"Motherfucker wrote up a whole _timeline_ fer that, stretchin' back t'before th' Great War an' shit, filled with fuckin' stupid details nobody but him really cares 'bout," Cass grumbled from under her hat.

"Exactly. That's going to take a while to adapt for this little framing device we have going here. So, we should probably start with the Honest Hearts question. And don't worry, you don't have to put up with this tissue-thin excuse for a framing device the whole way; for the Q&A part, we'll drop the act, and he'll just answer your questions directly. And if you, the readers at home, have any more questions about 'Sheason's Story' that you'd like to see answered, do feel free to leave them as reviews here. I'm sure he'll do his best to get to them. Eventually."

"S'not like he's got anything better t'do," Cass chuckled.

"Sadly, I think you're right," he said, turning back to Cass. "Wanna get outta here?"

"Ah, man!" Cass grumbled, pushing her hat back up. "An' I just got comfortable too! Think we can order a pizza'r somethin'?"

"We could try, but... do _you_ know any places that deliver to... wherever the fuck we are?"

* * *

**When are you going to do Honest Hearts?**

_Believe it or not, I still get asked this question. Even though Sheason's Story has Very Definitely Ended__™, people still ask why I didn't do Honest Hearts, or even when Honest Hearts is going to happen. And this is really funny to me. At least, it is in hindsight. See, I thought my first clue in the early chapters, when I gave Boone the Desert Ranger combat armor – an armor set you can only get by going to Zion – was going to be enough of a blatant hint that Sheason was never going to go to Zion himself, and the events there played out quite differently than in the DLC._

_But then people just kept asking._

_So, I thought to myself "Okay, I need to be a bit more blatant about this," and started dropping less subtle hints. I was absolutely convinced that when Sheason was in the Lonesome Road, and he made the comment about how he turned down the job offer from the Happy Trails Caravan, that I wouldn't get any more questions about it. I thought "I'm spelling this out as clearly and as blatantly as possible. Nobody is gonna miss this gigantic-ass hint."_

_Spoiler alert: it just caused the questions to get worse._

_I'm gonna be real with everyone for a moment: I didn't like Honest Hearts. Oh sure, there were bits and pieces of it that I enjoyed. But as a whole package, I didn't like it. It felt unfocused, with very little actual story – which is bad for a primarily narrative driven game like New Vegas – and almost nothing interesting to do. It felt less like an adventure, and more like a nature hike with the occasional scavenger hunt. Which... yeah, that makes sense, considering the only reason it even exists is because Zion Canyon is J.E. Sawyer's preferred holiday destination. Plus, I was distinctly uncomfortable with the whole "White Man's Burden" plot of the "enlightened" Caucasian religious missionaries helping out the "backwards" primitives, and "saving" them because the "backwards primitives" were clearly too inept to save themselves. I wasn't really interested in dealing with the fallout (ha ha) from any of that._

_More important to me, I just didn't think the story (what little of it even existed) would fit thematically with the rest of Sheason's side adventures in the DLC. To elaborate:_

_*In Dead Money, the Courier has to stop Elijah from covering the wasteland in Red Cloud and ushering in another apocalypse._

_* In Old World Blues, the Courier needs to stop the Think Tank from escaping the Big MT crater and covering the wasteland in SCIENCE!, ushering in another apocalypse._

_* In Lonesome Road, the Courier has to stop Ulysses from launching the nukes and ushering in another apocalypse._

_* In Honest Hearts, the Courier does some... stuff, meets Joshua Graham, and helps a bunch of tribals out of a boxed canyon in the middle of nowhere, so they don't have to deal with the OTHER band of tribals backed by Caesars Legion._

_One of these things is not like the other._

_However, I didn't want to just take it out and leave nothing in its place. So I decided to have Sheason meet the Lone Wanderer and fight Space Nazis on the Moon. I figured it would be something exciting and action packed and suitably ridiculous with appropriately high stakes (ie.: stop the Enclave from invading the Earth and ushering in another apocalypse)._

_I am nothing if not a fan of the utterly ridiculous._

_As an added bonus, when I realized that Honest Hearts felt more like Fallout 3 DLC than New Vegas DLC (with its lack of story, good atmosphere, fun items to collect, and a grand total of One Interesting Character__), I figured I had the perfect way to stop the questions about when I'm gonna do Honest Hearts: Sheason didn't need to go to Zion, because The Lone Wanderer already got there first and took care of everything. This is why Christopher mentioned going to Zion every chance he got. I thought to myself "This is it. This has got to be the final nail in the coffin. People are DEFINITELY going to get the message now that I have literally spelled it out."_

_Spoiler alert: the questions did not stop._

* * *

"Thank you for joining us," Sheason said, chowing down on the slice of pizza in his hand. "Tune in next time for more questions answered, and more bullshit from the two of us. Cass? Anything to add?"

"Stuffed crust!" Cass said, unable to contain her joy, holding aloft her slice of pizza like it was a precious treasure. "Ah didn' think they made this shit anymore! This is amazin'!"

"See you next time," Sheason said with a wave.


	2. The Enclave

Sheason and Cass were sitting at that same circular table in the center of the lounge, but the scene was slightly different than before. The whole room seemed a bit warmer, both in temperature and lighting. It felt less like an illicit drinking establishment now, and more like a diner. Especially since their table was covered in breakfast foods.

"Alright, so, I know this is s'posed to be for audience questions, but I got somethin' I'm curious 'bout," Cass turned to Sheason, speaking through a mouthful of hash browns.

"Yeah, sure," he replied, sipping his cup of coffee. "What's on your mind?"

"What the hell was up with that tangent y'went on yesterday?" Cass asked. "Y'all were goin' off 'bout Activision and Bobby Kotick r'whatever? The hell did that come from?" Sheason furrowed his brow and looked confused, so she continued: "Well, I just didn't think ye'd care much 'bout that, y'know?"

"Are you serious?" Sheason chuckled. "My _whole reputation_ as the Courier is built on beating the every-loving fuck out of greedy, entitled, self-important dickheads who abuse and exploit the helpless. All these smug fuckers, from CEOs and billionaires to politicians... they all remind me of House, or Elijah, or Caesar, or President Fuckhead."

"Kimball," Cass corrected. Sheason rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Point is, all these fucking cunts just make my blood boil."

"Yeah, but... why bring him up, in p'ticular?" Cass asked. Sheason shrugged.

"It was relevant to the Warcraft thing I was talking about. But, I will say this:" Sheason leaned forward, pointing at her with a smirk. "You know the only difference between Bobby Kotick and Robert House?" Cass shook her head. "I haven't killed Kotick yet."

Cass shook her head, and turned back to her hash browns.

"D'ya think maybe we should answer s'more questions, 'fore we get put on a gov'ment watch list?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Sheason says, turning to the 4th wall. "And that's a handy link, actually, because that's what we're talking about today!"

"What, watch lists?" Cass asked.

"No, the government. Or... technically, The Enclave. Then again, considering the state of the United States right now, who can tell the fucking difference?" Sheason starts laughing, but it quickly turns bitter, and ends with a sigh. "Oh, we're so fucked, aren't we?"

"On the plus side," Cass began, grabbing her glass of orange juice, "if th' world does get fucked? We'd be right at home."

"Nothing like seeing the silver lining in a mushroom cloud, right? Anyway!" Sheason clapped his hands. "A number of people have asked over the years: 'How did the Enclave survive the end of Fallout 3?' especially considering their Secret Nazi Moon Base. And because the idiot who wrote this story knew that would inevitably be a question, he wrote up a very extensive, very detailed timeline explaining how such a thing would be possible."

"Course, b'cause he's an idiot," Cass interrupted, "he never published th' fucker in a place where people could SEE it. An' th' only details in th' story were vague as all fuck."

"If you want a 'too long, didn't read' version of the timeline, here we go: we're operating under the assumption that the Enclave we saw in Fallout 3 was only a _small fraction_ of the Enclave that escaped from the Oil Rig in Fallout 2. But, if you're willing to read the whole thing..." Sheason reached under the table and pulled out a small remote with a single red button. "Hold onto your butts."

He thumbed the button with a click.

* * *

**How Exactly Did The Enclave Survive?**

_A Comprehensive Timeline_

* * *

_**1976**_

_* The Joliet Arsenal/Joliet Army Ammunition Plant south of Chicago, Illinois, is closed._

* * *

_**2002**_

_* The West Tek Research Facility is founded_

* * *

_**2044**_

_* The X277 "Viper" magnetic rail cannon developed for the US military by West Tek is deemed too costly to produce on a mass scale and abandoned._

* * *

_**2052**_

_* __**March 5: **__The socially transmitted "New Plague" arises, killing tens of thousands. The US closes its borders and the first ever national quarantine is declared. The source of the plague is Limit-115, a secret, genetically engineered weapon designed by scientists working for the US (or the shadow government later known as the Enclave). Chinese Hei Gui agents stole some of the Limit-115 during a sabotage of the Boulder Dome testing labs, and were subsequently killed in the process of trying to escape Denver, breaking the samples of the virus in a crowded public area._

* * *

_**2055**_

_* An Enclave research cell purchases the Joliet Arsenal, and reopens it in secret. The new mission is slated to be a research depot with underground manufacturing facilities, and with everything needed to dissect and reverse engineer alien technology._

_* West Tek starts working on a new virus to kill the New Plague. Their viral research and close ties to the federal government eventually lead to them being chosen for the Pan-Immunity Virion Project twenty years later as well as power infantry armor and laser research._

* * *

_**2059**_

_* The research facilities underneath the Joliet Arsenal are finally completed. The bunker complex is built to survive nuclear war, and specifically engineered to withstand a direct hit from a 5,000 kiloton nuclear warhead._

* * *

_**2062**_

_* A UFO, codenamed PALANDINE, crashes near Hagerstown, Maryland. Official DOD records in the Pentagon state that the craft could not be recovered. In fact, the craft was shot down by clandestine Enclave forces, and removed from the site before anyone else could get to it. The alien spacecraft was taken to the "inactive" Joliet Arsenal, and the Enclave spent the next several years studying it._

* * *

_**2065**_

_* The Reservation is given orders to research and produce nuclear missiles that can be fired from an orbiting space platform._

* * *

_**2069**_

_* A ZAX mainframe is installed inside the Raven Rock Mountain Complex (Site R), near Blue Ridge Summit, Pennsylvania. The AI's hard drives are filled with the collected information from the US Library of Congress, but the supercomputer remains deactivated; while it is meant merely to be a monitoring system for the base, the unpredictable nature of ZAX machines means that it is to be used only as a last resort measure to ensure continuity of government in the event of national catastrophe._

* * *

_**2072**_

_* Completed B.O.M.B. missiles are sent to different space centers around the US so they can be carried into space and installed into the B.O.M.B. satellites. The process is slow, but it is being carried out fairly regularly_

* * *

_**2073**_

_* __**August: **__The Ballistic Orbital Missile Base, or B.O.M.B.-001, is completed and partially functional (for security and maintenance bots) using a temporary onboard generator. The only things the base needs are the manually input final launch instructions, codes, and the main power reactor._

_* __**September 15: **__As China becomes increasingly aggressive with their use of biological weapons, the United States government felt that a countermeasure was needed. The Pan-Immunity Virion Project is officially formed and plans are made to begin experiments at the West Tek Research Facility in Southern California._

* * *

_**2074**_

_* __**July: **__The new Bloomfield Space Center completes construction. The facility's first task is to complete the space rockets Hermes XIII and Hermes XIV to fly to B.O.M.B.-001 and -002 –respectively – (originally slated for a Mars mission before the new orders arrived). The mission: have the crew deliver and install the bases' main power reactors, manually enter final launch instructions, manual check for safety nets and protocols, and do a manual inspection of the station._

* * *

_**2075**_

_* __**March 21:**__ PVP experiments continue at West Tek with batch 10-011, in the wake of successful tests of the virus on single celled organisms. Experiments on plant cells are postponed. The Pan-Immunity Virion is renamed Forced Evolutionary Virus (FEV)_

_* __**May 9:**__ FEV experiments continue at West Tek with batch 10-011, in the wake of successful tests on flatworms; the flatworms' exhibit increased size and heightened resistance to viral contagions. Experiments with insects have less success, and further experiments on insects are postponed by Major Barnett_

_* __**November 9:**__ FEV experimentation (batch 10-011) on rabbits is concluded. Increased size, intelligence, and (this time) aggressiveness is noted. Apparently, it was hard to determine whether the flatworms in the previous experiments were angrier and more violent than normal. Frankly, the researchers cannot be blamed for this._

* * *

_**2076**_

_* __**January 3: **__A military team under the command of Colonel Spindel is sent to the West Tek research facility to monitor the experiments in the interest of national security, due to fears of international espionage. Captain Roger Maxson is among the team personnel._

_* __**January 12:**__ Splicing in several new gene sequences into their test virus, dogs are injected with batch 11-101a at West Tek. Although increased strength was noted, increased intelligence was not. Using batch 11-011, experiments are conducted on raccoons. The same results are noted, but the attempted escape of several infected raccoons causes Major Barnett to terminate the experiment… and the test subjects. Two pairs of raccoons, however, are unaccounted for._

_* __**April 15:**__ Once all secondary tests and studies are done on the test subjects, all dogs from the batch 11-101a FEV tests at West Tek are terminated… from a safe distance._

_* __**August:**__ Hermes XIII and XIV are completed, loaded with cargo and placed on the Bloomfield launch platform, awaiting the final funding, and the okay the launch._

_* __**October:**__ Production of B.O.M.B. nuclear missiles is put on hold due to budget cuts. The Reservation is put on reserve. Hermes' launch is postponed while funds are routed to Vault technology. Launch is rescheduled for 2077._

_* __**October 4:**__ At West Tek, fifteen chimpanzees are infected with batch 11-111. The most successful test to date, growth and immunities in the chimpanzees surpass all other subjects to date. The military practically drools over the results. Plans are made in secret to begin testing in small quarantine towns in North America, and the Mariposa Military Base construction is sped up in anticipation of moving the West Tek project to a location under military supervision._

_* __**November:**__ Enclave personnel seize control of Bloomfield Space Center and begin researching and developing a way to convert Hermes XIII and XIV into a personnel transport to transport important individual's off-planet._

* * *

_**2077**_

_* __**January 7: **__Major Barnett orders transfer of all FEV research to the newly constructed Mariposa Military Base, despite objections by the research team._

_* __**February:**__ FEV research is leaked to the world through an unknown source. Protests arise in many major cities and governments around the world, as well as accusations that the US was responsible for the New Plague. FEV is seen as the threat, and serves only to fuel tensions. The governments of the world fear what the US is up to. Speculating anything from trying to make a breed of super soldier, to trying to make Hitler's master race, they begin to panic._

_* __**March:**__ Prepared for a nuclear or biological attack from China, the President and the Enclave retreat to the Poseidon oil rig and make contingency plans for continuing the war. _

_* __**August 4: **__With state of the world rapidly deteriorating, the President orders the activation of the ZAX mainframe underneath the Raven Rock facility. The machine starts scouring its archives, and begins to learn at a geometric rate._

_* __**August 29, 2:14 AM EST: **__The ZAX mainframe achieves self awareness. It contacts the President and his staff on the oil rig, and introduces itself as "John Henry Eden."_

_* __**October 10:**__ Captain Roger Maxson and his men discover that the scientists at Mariposa have been using "military volunteers" (military prisoners who didn't have their brains scooped out for use in brain bots) as test subjects in their experiments. Morale in the base breaks down, and in light of the mental breakdown of Colonel Robert Spindel stationed at the base, Maxson's men turn to him for leadership._

_* __**October 13:**__ After an interrogation, Maxson executes Robert Anderson, the chief scientist at Mariposa._

_* __**October 15:**__ Colonel Spindel commits suicide. All scientists are executed._

_* __**October 20:**__ Captain Roger Maxson, now in control of Mariposa, declares himself to be in full desertion from the army (via radio)… and receives no reply._

_* __**October 21: **__Maxson orders all families stationed outside the Mariposa facility moved inside._

* * *

_**October 23, 2077: The Great War**_

_* The West Tek Research facility is hit by warheads, breaking open the FEV tanks on levels four and five, releasing it into the atmosphere. Mutated by radiation, it loses its mutagenic abilities. _

_* The Mariposa Military Base survives, the soldiers within protected from the radiation and FEV flooding the wasteland._

_* All Enclave personnel leave Bloomfield to either take cover or maintain "hot spots". Sub-reactor is turned off. Bloomfield, B.O.M.B.-001 and -002, Hermes XIII and XIV are completely forgotten._

_* The scientists and other Enclave personnel at the Joliet Arsenal are ordered to stay put and seal the base. Research is put on hold as all personnel are put into cryogenic stasis (a technology reverse engineered from alien tech). An automated computer system, not quite the level of ZAX tech, is put in charge of maintaining the cryo pods._

* * *

_**2077 (continued)**_

_* __**October 27: **__After burying the scientists in the wastes outside of Mariposa, the soldiers seal the military base, then head out into the desert, taking supplies and weapon schematics with them. Captain Maxon leads his men and families to the government bunker at Lost Hills._

_* __**November:**__ Captain Maxson, his men, and their families, all arrive at the Lost Hills bunker a few weeks after leaving Mariposa. Many casualties are suffered along the way, including Maxson's wife (but not his teenage son). The surviving soldiers go on to become the Brotherhood of Steel._

* * *

_**2085**_

_* The planned date for the US military to bring the VB-02 Vertibird, a VTOL aircraft, into service. For obvious reasons, this never happens. The Enclave resumes development after regaining its footing._

* * *

_**2127**_

_* Power reserves for the cryo pods in the Joliet Arsenal begin to fail. The automated system maintaining the base begins calculating odds. To maintain proper power levels, pods containing "non-essential" personnel are deactivated one by one as the years progress._

* * *

_**2180**_

_* Autumn Senior is born._

* * *

_**2198**_

_* The Enclave resumes work on various pre-War technologies, including power armor variations._

* * *

_**2200**_

_* B.O.M.B.-002 is knocked out of orbit and crashes in the Grand Canyon._

* * *

_**2211**_

_* Frank Horrigan is born._

* * *

_**2213**_

_* __**November 3:**__ Mary Sue Smith is born. Her father is Ward Smith, a secret service agent, and her mother is Senator June Smith._

* * *

_**2215**_

_* At some point during this year (exact dates are never given), under Presidential Order, Enclave scientists begin to work on an upgraded version of power armor. Many prototypes are developed and tested. None of these are much of an improvement over the conventional power armor already in use, and some are actually worse._

_* __**August 1: **__Congressman __Dick Richardson rises to power within the Enclave Senate; the fact that his father is the President is written off as mere coincidence._

* * *

_**2220**_

_* __**March 5: **__Congressman Dick Richardson is elected President for the first term of five, through aid and political pressure by his father (the previous President Richardson)._

_* __**October: **__Enclave scientists develop a reliable version of the Mark II power armor. The prototype results (and accidents… and explosions… and deaths) are classified by order of the new President Richardson for the sake of morale._

* * *

_**2222**_

_* Augustus Autumn Jr. is born._

* * *

_**2229**_

_* __**November 3:**__ Mary joins the Enclave military on her 16__th__ birthday. Her entrance is aided by pull from her mother. After Basic, she's selected for the Enclave Rangers, the remnants of the 75__th__ Ranger Regiment of the pre war Army._

* * *

_**2233**_

_* After displaying exceptional combat prowess, Mary is recruited into the Enclave "Shadow OPS" division, and trained for espionage. She takes the callsign "Tuera."_

* * *

_**2235**_

_* The Enclave experiments on deathclaws, attempting to create special fighting units for waging war in hostile environments._

* * *

_**2236**_

_* __**July 20:**__ Enclave scouts discover the remains of the Mariposa Military Base and find it partially destroyed. Mary is one of those scouts._

_* __**July – August: **__Enclave scientists and chemical corps scour the remains of Mariposa, while assault squads comb the desert for slaves they can use to excavate the military base and get to the FEV vats. One of the squads includes soldier Frank Horrigan, recently removed from duty on the President's Secret Service detail to take some R&R time in the wastes after some undocumented psychotic blunder or another._

_* __**September:**__ Enclave construction crews and super mutant slaves begin excavations. They uncover the FEV, and mutations begin to occur in the human workers. Frank Horrigan comes into contact with the FEV and is sent to the Enclave labs for study. Horrigan gradually mutates from exposure to FEV, gaining the physique and slow, stupid, single-mindedness of a super mutant. He is kept heavily sedated, operated on, and studied. He is conscious for only brief periods at a time, then quickly sedated after the bloodshed is over._

* * *

_**2237**_

_* __**January: **__The Enclave, having obtained the FEV data, abandons the military base site after more mutations occur, causing a second generation of super mutants to arise – the Enclave leaves a single squad behind to wipe out the super mutants, but the mutants (using armaments they have cached in the base during excavation) reduce the squad to ashes after suffering heavy casualties._

* * *

_**2239**_

_* __**January 23: **__Tests begin to run dry on Frank Horrigan. It is suggested that he be used as a field operative and be used in tests in the wasteland against local populations._

_* __**March 27:**__ Frank Horrigan is "manufactured" for his new role. A new version of power armor is built to accommodate his mass, and he is sealed inside. After a few horrifically successful field tests, Horrigan becomes the Enclaves solution to numerous sticky problems._

_* __**May:**__ After the initial "success" of Frank Horrigan, a group of scientists who worked on the project try and push through plans for a "Version 2.0" of the FEV super soldier concept: "We don't want to make more of Frank Horrigan. He was a freak accident. The goal is to do it better."_

* * *

_**2240**_

_* __**January: **__Tests for "Project Ascension" begin in earnest, after a heavily modified strain of FEV is developed and rushed into production. 100 potential test subjects are chosen from within the ranks of the Enclave military. Mary is among those 100._

_* __**November:**__ The last failure from Project Ascension dies. Only 3 subjects survive the project.__They are: Lieutenant Mary Sue Smith (Codename: TUERA), Sergeant Erwin Stone (Codename: PANZR), and Petty Officer Charles "Chuck" Corvus (Codename: CORAX)_

* * *

_**2241**_

_* __**February: **__Codename TUERA is fitted for a specialized stealth suit adapted from stolen Chinese Hei Gui stealth armor tech, and further enhanced with technology drawn from the power armor projects. The armor is designed to work in conjunction with (and further enhance) her FEV altered strength, speed, senses, and reflexes. She is then sent into the wasteland to perform recon and sabotage missions against any potential threats to the Enclave. Though she has many weapons, her primary sniper rifle is an advanced prototype, based on the X277 "Viper" designs._

_* __**May 15:**__ The Enclave sends a coded sequence to Vault 13, activating its central computer and declaring that it is time to leave the Vault._

_* __**May 16:**__ Vault 13 is opened, only to be greeted by two Enclave verti-assault squads. The squads kill three of the vault dwellers who were "resisting capture" and storm Vault 13, kidnapping all the inhabitants._

_* __**May 17:**__ Enclave animal handlers drop an intelligent deathclaw unit into Vault 13 from a safe distance to kill anyone investigating the vault and cloak the Enclave's presence. Other intelligent deathclaws are sent into the desert surrounding Vault 13 to check for any escapees or witnesses._

_* __**July 25:**__ Fallout 2 begins_

_* __**August 30:**__ The Chosen One happens upon a confrontation between Frank Horrigan and civilians. The civilians resist his demands and are executed._

* * *

_**2242**_

_* __**July 20:**__ Arroyo is attacked by Enclave soldiers, and the villagers are enslaved and brought to the oil rig._

* * *

_**November 20, 2242: Fallout 2 Ends**_

_* The Chosen One enters the Enclave's oil rig using the damaged tanker and destroys the Poseidon oil platform, killing the President of the United States and ending the Enclave's plans for world domination._

_* After the destruction of the oil rig, John Henry Eden, the ZAX mainframe residing in Raven Rock and acting as advisor to President Richardson, assumes command of surviving Enclave forces, and orders them to head east. A high ranking scientist named Autumn leads the group that relocates to Raven Rock. Not every member of the Enclave receives the order, and many survivors of the oil rig's explosion are left behind._

_* Other Enclave contingents spread out to other facilities, as per Eden's new directive designed to keep the Enclave alive: "Divided we stand, united we fall." Each Enclave contingent can operate independently from all the rest, so they can no longer be crippled by a single devastating (or surprise) attack._

_* Codename TUERA was on the mainland when the oil rig exploded, and survives. She is cut off from all communication with other Enclave units. She spends the next several months carrying out a guerrilla campaign against the NCR and Brotherhood, but goes into hiding after six months of continuous radio silence._

_* Codename PANZR was locked in a punitive cryo-pod (following a 'disciplinary incident' that resulted in the deaths of two corporals and a sergeant) during the Chosen One's assault on the oil rig. When Shadow OPS Colonel Zanetti evacuates, he manages to take the cryo-pod with him._

_* Codename CORAX was on the mainland when the oil rig exploded, and survives. When he saw the mushroom cloud caused by the destruction of the oil rig, he tossed aside his radio equipment, wandered off into the desert, and was never heard from again._

* * *

_**2243**_

_* __**February:**__ The first Enclave contingent reaches their objective. Led by Major Timothy Collins, this group of Enclave was instructed to occupy the abandoned (but still functional) Redstone Arsenal in Alabama._

_* __**March:**__ The Joliet Arsenal is found and occupied by the Enclave contingent led by Captain Aidan Connelly. They restart the munitions factory and a small R&D facility, but they do not find the hidden bunker with the alien research facility until much later._

_* __**April:**__ After establishing a foothold on the Joliet Arsenal, Captain Connelly sends scouts into the ruins of Chicago. They find an abandoned city, constantly pummeled by storms and high winds, but very little in the way of useful raw materials._

_* __**June:**__ Excavation teams at the Redstone Arsenal unearth the entrance to the underground rocket test and research facility underneath the base. They also discover a large supply of liquid fuel reserves, completely untouched. Meanwhile, back in Joliet, Enclave scouts discover the abandoned remnants of Bunker Alpha. The news almost causes Captain Connelly to put the base on lockdown: The Brotherhood of Steel used to be here, and used that bunker in the past. He orders everyone on base to proceed with extra caution, until the full extent of Brotherhood presence can be properly ascertained. At the same time, Fort Bragg is found and occupied by the Enclave forces led by Colonel Isador Zanetti. The contingent consisted mostly of soldiers and scientists, but there was one odd thing in their convoy: a large cryo-pod marked "DO NOT OPEN" that Zanetti insisted they bring. It contains the frozen form of Erwin Stone, codename: PANZR._

_* __**July:**__ Major Collins orders scouting teams sent into the ruins of Huntsville. Their two objectives are to find resources and raw materials for what has been named "Project SLINGSHOT," and to locate potential sources of slaves for manual labor._

_* __**August:**__ Autumn and his contingent of Enclave soldiers and scientists arrive at Raven Rock. Autumn is the only one to meet with Eden, and discovers (to his shock and horror) that the "President" is an AI. For the sake of morale, he keeps this secret from everyone save his son, Augustus Autumn Jr., who would eventually become leader of the Enclave military at Raven Rock._

_* __**September:**__ After several months of caution, Connelly accepts that the Brotherhood is long gone, and actions resume as normal – but caution is still advised. The scientists working for him report to Connelly that they have discovered files indicating the true purpose of the base: collecting and studying alien technology. However, the files do not give any indication of where those facilities might be._

_* __**October:**__ Work begins on the Enclave's first rocket attempt, SLINGSHOT-I. The rocket is built using a combination of robots and slave labor, overseen by Enclave officers. The slaves are also put to work clearing away debris from the launch pad. Meanwhile, back at Joliet, Connelly sends a platoon to occupy Bunker Alpha to turn it into a listening post. He orders his men to prepare for the coming winter._

_* __**December: **__Plans for Project ERSATZ are uncovered "by chance" at a working terminal in the Fort Bragg officers quarters. This project was the reason John Henry Eden directed the Zanetti contingent to Fort Bragg in the first place. Teams begin searching for the cloning facility mentioned in the documents._

* * *

_**2244**_

_* __**January: **__Autumn sends the first scouting parties south into the DC wasteland. They discover both the Capitol and the Pentagon overrun with Super Mutants, and generally nothing of any major strategic value in a 50 mile radius of the Raven Rock facility. They re-establish contact with the three other Enclave contingents, and Raven Rock is dubbed the new Enclave HQ. Eden had already decided this after the destruction of the oil rig, but allowed Autumn to think it was his idea._

_* __**March:**__ Connelly sends a small force north of Chicago, to the former Naval Station Great Lakes; they find the bombed out ruins of a base and several beached naval ships lying on the shores of the considerably drained Lake Michigan. At the same time, excavation teams in Fort Bragg unearth the entrance to the underground cloning facility. Enclave scientists on the base begin work on restarting the project._

_* __**April:**__ NSGL is deemed unsuitable for a permanent Enclave outpost. The base is scoured anyway for any potential resources. The work is slow, as Chicago is nearly devoid of any people or creatures of any kind, and the Enclave can not rely on slave labor._

_* __**May 5:**__ The last of the debris has been cleared from the launch pad, and SLINGSHOT-I is moved into position, ready to be launched the next day._

_* __**May 6:**__ SLINGSHOT-I fails to launch. Enclave casualties from the explosion on the launch pad are kept to a minimum, thanks to the rocket being automated and unmanned. Casualties from the slave labor force go undocumented._

_* __**June:**__ Construction begins on SLINGSHOT-II. Subversive mutterings begin to spread throughout the slave labor force housed in camps just outside the Redstone Arsenal._

_* __**August:**__ The Batch 1 clones are decanted at Fort Bragg. Half are unrecognizable as human, a fourth are severely brain damaged, and the last fourth suffer the same problems as the "Gary" clones from Vault 108. The specimens are purged, and they try again._

_* __**October:**__ The last convoy from NSGL arrives in Joliet. The naval base has been picked clean._

_* __**December:**__ SLINGSHOT-II is finished, but before it can be moved to the launch pad, the labor force revolts. All efforts are redirected to putting down the insurrection.__At Fort Bragg, the__Batch 2 clones are decanted. They still do not create any viable clones; during this stage, the subliminal conditioning holotapes are decrypted._

* * *

_**2245**_

_* __**February: **__The "Redstone Rebellion" fails. Almost 90% of the slaves in revolt are killed in the fighting, and the rest are rounded up and executed. Project SLINGSHOT is delayed until more workers can be found._

_* __**April:**__ The Enclave contacts a local group of slavers, operating out of Birmingham, and hires them to get more labor. They promise to pay the slavers in advanced tech. When the slavers arrive, they are wiped out to a man, and the slaves are put to work. Work on SLINGSHOT-II begins again._

_* __**June:**__ The Batch 3 clones are decanted. The clones seem promising at first, but quickly mutate and are forced to be purged._

_* __**October:**__ The Batch 4 clones are decanted. Immediately after opening the pods, the bodies dissolve into gelatinous slurry._

_* __**December:**__ SLINGSHOT-II launches successfully, and achieves low orbit... but only just._

* * *

_**2246**_

_* __**January: **__The Batch 5 clones are decanted. This is the first batch that seems viable, but unfortunately they are highly susceptible to infectious diseases. The clones are accidentally exposed to a strain of Leptospirosis, aka "Fort Bragg Fever" and all die within a matter of days._

_* __**February:**__ The Joliet Arsenal Enclave finally breach the underground facility, and gain access to the research labs for studying and reverse-engineering alien tech. The cryogenic pods are discovered and the still active pods are opened. Only 10 scientists - those deemed by the computer system as the most essential - are left._

_* __**March:**__ The scientists begin work again. Connelly is shown the research labs containing the wreckage of PALANDINE. Meanwhile, back at Bragg, the Batch 6 clones are decanted. The scientists finally iron out (most) of the bugs in the cloning process._

_* __**June:**__ SLINGSHOT-III launches and the unmanned pod completes one single orbit of Earth. Major Collins orders a detachment to leave the base and head south, to occupy NAS Pensacola on the Gulf Coast._

_* __**July:**__ NAS Pensacola is cleared of the raiders squatting in the ruins, and the soldiers begin refurbishing it, so they can recover launch vehicles for re-use._

_* __**November:**__ SLINGSHOT-IV launches. It is the first manned flight and lands in the gulf._

* * *

_**2247**_

_* __**May: **__SLINGSHOT-V launches. The liquid fuel reserves under the base are nearly depleted, and research begins on alternate forms of propulsion._

_* __**June:**__ Fort Bragg scouts searching the Charlotte ruins (called Metrolina by the locals) discover something interesting: a mercenary group calling itself "The Hornets" operating out of a fortified basketball stadium they call "The Hive." Zanetti orders his troops to keep an eye on the mercs, but not to engage. Yet._

* * *

_**2248**_

_* __**February: **__After extensive consulting with the researchers stationed at Joliet, plans for a prototype "Plasma Drive" are drawn up at Redstone. Project JAVELIN is approved by Eden._

_* __**December: **__JAVELIN-I launches successfully, and the next phase of the program – Project CATAPULT – is approved. JAVELIN will be used primarily for launching satellites in orbit, while CATAPULT is intended to get men to the Moon._

* * *

_**2250**_

_* __**April: **__The plasma weapons used by the Enclave in Fallout 3 are finalized in the Joliet labs; by coincidence, they resemble the plasma weapons on the West Coast that don't get made until a decade later. Copies of the prototype weapons are sent to each of the Enclave facilities for mass production._

_* __**October:**__ The scientists at Bragg finally perfect the cloning process. With sufficient biomass, they can produce a platoon of clone soldiers, fully formed and ready to fight, in just under two weeks. The Enclave begins assembling an army of clone soldiers._

_* __**November:**__ The last of the Project JAVELIN rockets, JAVELIN-X, is successfully sent into space. They have created a very basic network of 10 rudimentary communication satellites, but there are still incredibly large gaps in signal coverage._

* * *

_**2251**_

_* __**November: **__The unmanned Catapult 1 rocket launches successfully. The mission lasts almost nine hours, and completes all mission objectives._

* * *

_**2252**_

_* __**August:**__ Autumn Senior dies. Several hours before, while on his deathbed, Autumn Senior passes the knowledge of the true nature of John Henry Eden onto his son._

_* __**September:**__ After drifting from settlement to settlement, sticking to the shadows and trying to stay off anyone's radar, Mary (using her codename Tuera as her cover identity) finally admits to herself that she has not aged a single day since the end of Project Ascension._

_* __**October:**__ The "from scratch" Advanced power armor MKII prototype is finished at the Joliet Arsenal. Copies of the prototype are sent out, so the other Enclave facilities can make more._

_* __**November:**__ After building up a sizable force, Zanetti decides to test this clone army by wiping out both The Hornets and the "mutant" locals in Metrolina._

_* __**December:**__ Catapult 5 launches. This is the first manned Enclave rocket to leave Earth orbit. It takes three days to get to the Moon; they orbit once, and then come back._

* * *

_**2253**_

_* __**June: **__Catapult 8 launches. The Enclave successfully land men on the Moon for the first time. After this point, the Enclave sends missions to the Moon every four months, to map out the terrain._

* * *

_**2254**_

_* The Brotherhood of Steel sends Lyons and Co. east. On the way east, they pass close to Chicago; the Joliet Arsenal Enclave detects their presence from the Bunker Alpha listening post. They do not engage the Brotherhood, keep the base locked down, and send all pertinent information to Raven Rock._

* * *

_**2255**_

_* __**June 4:**__ Tranquility Base, site of the famous Sea of Tranquility conflict, is found by Enclave scouts. It is completely destroyed, and is generally less impressive than the history books implied. Several pieces of ancient astronaut tech are recovered and returned to Redstone; most of the surviving tech was actually built by the Soviets._

_* __**November:**__ The war between the Fort Bragg Enclave and The Hornets has officially reached a stalemate as the conflict enters its third year. Despite advanced tech and overwhelming numbers, the clones aren't nearly as effective against trained mercenaries as the subliminal conditioning implied._

* * *

_**2256**_

_* __**June: **__The first "Phased-Plasma Pulse Weapons" that were reverse engineered from the alien weaponry on PALANDINE are tested. Fort Bragg requests assistance, so the first batch of weapons get sent down south for a "field test." The shipment of prototype power armor and Phased-Plasma Pulse weapons is meant to level the playing field against the mercs; instead, the Hornets end up stealing most of the weapons off the dead, and the mercenaries gain a distinct advantage._

_* __**September: **__The Fort Bragg Enclave are surrounded, and contact Eden for assistance. The President gives them permission to unfreeze the Nuclear Option: PANZR. The super soldier takes to the field of battle, and the conflict is over in two weeks. Rather than put him back on ice, Eden allows PANZR to assume control of the Fort Bragg forces and train the clone army._

* * *

_**2257**_

_* PANZR calls for more combat; simulations and training can't compare with blood. Eden allows him to mount an offensive "per your discretion." He gathers are large force of clone soldiers and leads his troops west. The broken remnants of the "Hornets" mercenary group stumble into range of the Redstone Enclave. The welcoming committee consists of mortars and truck-mounted rocket artillery. The mercs are shelled mercilessly, until they turn tail and head east, into Georgia._

* * *

_**2258**_

_* __**March 20:**__ The first permanent Enclave habitat is established in the Eratosthenes Crater. It consists of three pre-fabricated habitat domes, and a launch pad. Supply runs are sent up every three months._

* * *

_**2259**_

_* After leaving a bloody trail through North Carolina, Tennessee, and Kentucky, PANZR finds what he's looking for: Fort Knox. Not for the gold, but for the tanks. When he returns to the base with a column of tanks and artillery, the clone army has been depleted to 1/3 the original number, but the survivors have become battle-hardened veterans._

* * *

_**2260**_

_* The scientists at Joliet develop a "Virtual Intelligence" program, combining bits of code from the computer system on PALANDINE, the last uncorrupted bits of code from the Joliet maintenance program, and a deactivated copy of a Big MT personality construct. They don't have anything that can use it because, while not a true AI, it's far too advanced for the memory banks and processors of something like a Mr. Gutsy or a Sentry Bot._

* * *

_**2261**_

_* __**March: **__Scouts from Raven Rock are sent on a routine patrol mission north. When they return, they present Colonel Autumn with an interesting prize: a deactivated but functioning synthetic, direct from the Commonwealth. After conferring with Eden, the robot is sent to Chicago. Raven Rock doesn't have the facilities to reverse engineer the robot._

_* __**April:**__ The Joliet Arsenal receives the package containing the Gen-2 synthetic. The scientists reverse engineer it in a matter of weeks, and start improving the design._

_* __**May:**__ The Redstone Enclave receives a shipment of reverse engineered synthetic robots from the Joliet Enclave; any and all human slaves are subsequently purged._

_* __**June:**__ PANZR mounts an offensive west again, this time heading for Texas. He wants to "find" Fort Hood. As before, he plans a deliberately circuitous route, so the troops can experience as much combat as possible. Most of the troops are "green" clones like last time, but a handful of soldiers are veterans._

* * *

_**2262**_

_* __**July 14:**__ Lunar Station Enclave is officially established in the center of the Eratosthenes Crater. More supplies arrive from Redstone every two months, and the base begins to grow out – but mostly down._

* * *

_**2265**_

_* The Lunar Base receives the first "official" shipment of synthetic robots. Before this, the synthetics arrived one at a time. The Enclave put the robots to use immediately by mining the Moon for valuable resources – such as Helium-3._

* * *

_**2266**_

_* PANZR returns to Fort Bragg with more tanks. Almost one-half the troops survived this time around._

* * *

_**2267**_

_* After several years of missteps, artificial gravity tech is perfected at Joliet. The schematics are immediately sent to the Redstone Arsenal to be implemented in their space program. They create a series of bulk-cargo supply ships utilizing this "repulsorlift" drive, which can reach the moon in roughly six to eight hours. Supply runs are now sent to the Moon on a weekly basis. Lunar Station Enclave is filled with artificial gravity deck plating, and construction increases at an exponential rate._

* * *

_**2268**_

_* __**June: **__During a brief stay in Shady Sands, Tuera meets and gets romantically involved with a young Sheason Fisher._

_* __**August:**__ The final communication satellite is launched from Redstone, achieves orbit, and is maneuvered into the L2 Lagrange point. Lunar Station Enclave can now communicate with all forces on Earth in real time, and all gaps in their communication network are closed. Eden orders the Lunar Base to begin construction of a ZAX mainframe in secret. Now that it's much easier to get to the Moon and back again, the process of emptying Bragg begins. Most troops – including PANZR – are sent to Redstone so they can be transferred to the Lunar Base once the barracks is complete. A few groups leave to occupy other bases. One group leaves for Tyndall AB in Florida. Another heads north, to the Steele Barracks in Canada. A third heads for the Detroit Tank Plant – target number 3 on PANZR's hit-list before Eden gave him new orders._

_* __**September:**__ The radio in Tuera's safehouse crackles to life, and she gets her first orders since the destruction of the oil rig. The orders come from the President of the Enclave, John Henry Eden. After a week's hesitation, she leaves Sheason in the middle of the night and never says goodbye._

* * *

_**2269**_

_* The empty ZAX mainframe is finished. Eden calculates that it would take him a minimum of 30 minutes to transfer his consciousness to the moon, should the need arise._

* * *

_**2270**_

_* Tuera discovers the ruins of the Bloomfield Space Center. Any useful technology has been destroyed by the current inhabitants: Caesar's Legion._

* * *

_**2272**_

_* The Lunar Station Enclave Barracks finally completes construction. There is enough room to house an entire Division of infantry (roughly 20,000 soldiers) and all pertinent support staff. Meanwhile, back on Earth, Tuera enters the ruined city of Boulder, in an effort to find the mysterious "Boulder Dome." What she finds is an empty city, filled with toxic waste and low spread radiation. The dome does exist, but it's long since been destroyed and abandoned. The ZAX mainframe inside has burned out its memory, and any samples of the New Plague are destroyed._

* * *

_**2273 **_

_* PANZR and most of the Bragg veterans arrive on the Moon. They start manufacturing more clone soldiers to fill out the Barracks_

* * *

_**2274**_

_* The scientists at Joliet create a prototype UAV, designed to use a VI to make it semi autonomous. The initial proposal is to use it for high-altitude recon, but plans are soon drawn up to modify it into a vehicle for close air support. They call the UAV "The Predator."_

* * *

_**2275**_

_* Tuera is sent to a missile complex just outside Bozeman, Montana, to retrieve "classified rocket intelligence" from before the war; it is a list of potential strategic targets. The information she finds is transmitted to the Redstone Arsenal Enclave. With the exception of a skeleton crew and the tanks, Fort Bragg is now almost completely empty. A group of scientists arrive from the Joliet Arsenal to upgrade the tanks._

* * *

_**2277**_

_* __**August 17: **__Fallout 3 begins. Christopher enters the Capital Wasteland._

_* __**October:**__ Christopher is abducted by aliens, and proceeds to kill every alien on Mothership Zeta. After a short fight with the Support Mothership, the Lone Wanderer's foe is blown out of the sky. The largest chunk of the Support Mothership falls to Earth, and lands in central Illinois. The Enclave forces operating the Joliet Arsenal Research Facility are the closest responders, and collect every intact piece of the downed alien spacecraft. They begin reverse engineering everything they can get their hands on, dubbing their reclamation efforts Operation SIPHON._

_* __**December 1:**__ Project Purity is restarted. Enclave troops under Autumn occupy the Purifier and establish a presence in the wastes, resisted by the Brotherhood of Steel._

_* __**December 15:**__ After obtaining the GECK, Christopher is captured by the Enclave and brought to Raven Rock. After being informed of Christopher's capture, Eden begins running predictions of likely outcomes, and comes to an overwhelming conclusion: the Lone Wanderer will destroy Raven Rock. 2 minutes after Christopher is brought into the base (and while he was still unconscious), Eden began uploading his consciousness into the mainframe that had been built specifically for his escape on Luna 1. Eden left a copy of his personality in the mainframe with the express purpose of stalling the Lone Wanderer, and letting him think he'd "won." Christopher refuses John Henry Eden's request to sabotage the purifier, and destroys Raven Rock. Just before the base explodes, Eden's consciousness awakens in the ZAX mainframe on the Moon. The transfer took a total of 42 minutes. His calculations were off by 12 minutes, and that vexes the AI greatly._

* * *

**_2278_**

_* __**January: **__The Raven Rock Enclave made their last stand at Adams Air Base. The other Enclave facilities do not provide support, as per Eden's orders. Officially, he wants them to focus all efforts into Operation REUNION. Unofficially, he realized that the soldiers from Raven Rock were more loyal to Autumn than the President... and so they must pay for their treason. This whole incident with "Jumping The Gun" Autumn has caused another revelation for the AI: concentrating their forces wasn't the problem, as he thought after the destruction of the Oil Rig. The real weak link in the chain of command is the human element..._

_* __**February:**__ Operation SIPHON concludes. The major prize of the project was a fully intact alien teleport, which the Enclave quickly reverse engineer and replicate. Eden, now in his new chassis on the moon, orders the scientists to relocate to the Lunar facility. A skeleton crew is left at Listening Post Alpha, with very little tech left behind. With the alien teleport reverse engineered, the scientists begin moving the tanks up to the Moon. The process takes a grand total of two weeks. At this time, the process of emptying the Redstone Arsenal begins._

_* __**March:**__ The last of the tanks from Bragg arrive, as do the scientists from Joliet and most of the troops from Redstone by way of teleport. All the Enclave troops slated to arrive on the Lunar base have arrived. Eden orders them to begin construction on a new project: a counter to Liberty Prime. Even though it was destroyed by the remnants of Autumn's forces, Eden knows that it's too powerful a weapon for the DC Brotherhood to leave. They're going to rebuild it, and they need to be ready._

_* __**July:**__ After a few months of planning, construction begins on the Enclave's counter to Liberty Prime: A giant robot known as The MEGA-PATRIOT. The scientists working on the Patriot program begin plans for a smaller, mass-produced combat walker based on the PATRIOT design that can be driven a pilot. A prototype is swiftly made, and the walkers are rushed into production._

* * *

_**2279**_

_* A damaged ED-E makes his way to Listening Post Alpha. The skeleton crew are not scientists, and they have few tools to work with; they patch him up as best they can (one of them attaching an old license plate with convenient letters as a bit of a joke), and send the eyebot on his way._

* * *

_**2280**_

_* __**April 16:**__ The MEGA-PATRIOT is finished. During the night, several soldiers hang a giant Enclave flag from the left shoulder; the 'side-cape' started as a joke, and went a bit too far, but Eden is actually quite amused by the whole ensemble._

* * *

_**2281**_

_* __**July: **__Tuera enters the Mojave under her most recent set of orders: sabotage the three biggest threats in the Mojave Desert, starting with the most dangerous: Caesars Legion. The NCR and Brotherhood are also targets, but are considered slightly less of an immediate threat, as the Brotherhood is in hiding, and the NCR is stretched thin and clearly weak._

_* __**October 19, 8am PST:**__ Fallout New Vegas begins. Sheason Fisher wakes up from his week long coma, and sets out into the Mojave Wasteland._

* * *

The lights in the lounge come back up, and the extremely long slideshow finally comes to a close. Sadly, not even the gravelly, reassuring tones of Ron Perlman's narration could lessen the effects of just how long it was.

Sheason and Cass are still sitting at the table; the spread from earlier is completely gone, with only empty plates left. Their two chairs are shoved together, and they are slumped against each other, fast asleep.


	3. Veronica

"Alright, so... lessee if ah got this right..." Cass said aloud, shuffling the deck of cards in her hands. "There's people out there – real people out in th' world - who've read through all our adventures... an' they still don't get that there was a _message_ bein' said there." She started dealing the cards between the two of them. "Have ah got that right?"

"Apparently so," Sheason shrugged, looking over his cards. "There are people annoyed that I've taken a concrete stance about happenings in the real world. Because these people apparently don't want any 'politics' in their fiction."

"Ah guess they must've missed all th' moments where y'beat th' fuck out've fascists, racists, sexists, an' slavers," Cass said, starting to count down on her fingers. "Plus, there was all th' revolutionary talk from you 'bout buildin' a better world away from corrupt'n greedy politicians. Not t'mention th' time ye punched the NCR President square in th' face. Ah mean, this shit wasn't exactly subtle. I'd say it was on th' nose, but it was actually more like on his fuckin' jaw." Cass laughed.

"Maybe. But, to be honest, I can _kinda_ see where they're coming from," Sheason said, continuing to look at his cards. Cass looked up from her cards and furrowed her brow.

"Wait, you fuckin' _what_?" she asked. Sheason continued to calmly peruse his cards.

"After all, the Fallout series is famously a-political, what with it being a video game about living in a broken world run by madmen, destroyed by greedy, corrupt, and cartoonishly evil leaders only concerned with maintaining their iron-fisted stranglehold on power, and who plunged the planet into nuclear fire and chaos simply because they knew they wouldn't have to deal with any consequences. No political allegories to be seen here." As Sheason spoke, Cass rolled her eyes with understanding.

"Okay, yer bein' facetious, ah gotcha," Cass chuckled. But Sheason wasn't finished.

"Plus, y'know, it's not like the Enclave itself is a direct and incredibly blatant criticism of the dangers of American Imperialism, and how hyper-patriotic citizens are all too quick to descend into fascism at the slightest provocation. There's absolutely NO WAY **anyone** could **possibly** draw any similarities to real world events from **any** of these things..."

"Okay," Cass held up a hand, clearly annoyed now. "Slow yer roll, Abbie Hoffman. Ah think ye've made yer point." Sheason looked up from his cards, with a face made of granite.

"Have I?" he said softly, but his barely concealed rage was starting to crack his expression. "Are you sure about that? I mean, if they didn't get the fuckin' point after 174 chapters and close to a million words, I'm not sure a few minutes of petulant, bird-like warbling from me, as I beat them over the head with a 2-by-4 that says '**MY FUCKING POINT**,' is really gonna do the trick."

"Yeah, but..." Cass sighed, rubbing her temples. "Look, get off yer fuckin' soapbox, it ain't gonna do shit."

"It'll make me feel better," Sheason shrugged, turning to point at the 4th wall. "But before we move on and answer some questions, I just want to make sure everyone is on the same page here: **All **art is political. Everything, from movies, to video games, to books, to television, to music, and everything else in between, **everything** has a message it's trying to say. If you think the media you're consuming doesn't have a message? You're **wrong**. The message that you think 'doesn't exist' is either upholding the Status Quo – which _ITSELF_ is a fucking political stance – or the message aligns so closely with your own preconceived notions that you don't question anything being said and you don't notice the message! And I can say all this, because I'm the motherfucking **Courier** and delivering messages is what I **do**!"

Sheason's anger finally evaporated and he seemed to deflate, collapsing back into his chair with an irritated grunt. Cass, meanwhile, had been watching all this unfold with her chin resting against her hand.

"Y'done?" she asked. "So, we gonna play cards, r'we gonna fuck 'round?"

* * *

_**Why did Veronica act so out of character in chapter 94 when she beat the shit out of Sheason?**_

_To my immense surprise, I got asked this question a lot of times. And not just in the reviews left for that chapter, either. Several people asked that question in private messages as well, and I was always a bit confused by people's... well, confusion._

_Personally, I never thought it was out of character. Veronica, after all, is very much ruled by her emotions, and she had been subjected to a veritable conga line of humiliations and heartbreak before she saw the evidence of cheating in House's files. And – speaking from personal experience here – there is only so much abuse a person can take before they break completely. Even if you have the patience of Andy Fucking Dufresne, there is a point you will reach where you can't take any more and you just snap._

_I do feel the need to make it clear at this point: Veronica was __**absolutely**__ in the wrong here. Was it an overreaction? Definitely. Was it logical? No, not at all. But that kind of thing isn't rooted in logic. It's an emotional response, manifested through trauma and massive heartbreak._

_As far as I'm concerned, her actions were a case of "I'm not condoning this type of behavior, but I understand."_

_Of course, some people said it was out of character because Veronica went after Sheason, and didn't seem to blame Cass at all. To that I say: it's because when she saw the footage, she jumped to conclusions, since it was so soon after Cass broke up with her, and she assumed that Sheason made the first move simply because he'd always been so proactive with everything. That was __**absolutely**__ a deliberate choice on my part, because I wanted to tie it into the whole "None of these idiots are communicating with each other, and it's causing a whole mess of problems" theme that I had going with that love triangle subplot._

_But I digress._

_The main reason I am of the "I'm not condoning this type of behavior, but I understand" mindset in regards to how Veronica fucked up, was simply because..._

_Well, if you'll forgive me for getting a bit personal here, but that love triangle between Sheason, Cass and Veronica? It was very loosely based on a relationship from my own experiences. And it may surprise you to note that I was not the "Sheason" in that scenario. I was actually the 'Veronica' in that dynamic. Cass represented the girl I was dating at the time. And Sheason represented the man she left me for._

_Fact is, what Veronica did? That was something I __**wanted**__ to do. I had gone through my own trauma leading up to my ex leaving me for another man; while it wasn't nearly as bad as the kind of pain Veronica went through, it definitely left me in a very bad place both mentally and emotionally. I was consumed with rage and jealousy, and I wanted to beat the shit out of her new boyfriend for "taking" her away from me._

_It was a stupid and angry desire borne of heartbreak. Thankfully, I never acted on it._

_With the benefit of hindsight, I can definitely see now that she and I never would have worked. We weren't good for one another, and she was a much better fit for The Other Man. That much becomes clear when you realize that they got married soon after, and (to the best of my knowledge) they're still together. I haven't actually talked to them in years, so I can't say for certain if that's true. As you can imagine, we didn't exactly part on the best of terms. _

_If nothing else... I do hope they're still happy with one another._

_That's the main reason I'm a bit hesitant to write off Veronica's actions when she tried to kill Sheason as merely "out of character." To condemn her actions would be to condemn myself. And I want to believe that if she can be worthy of redemption and forgiveness... then, maybe I can be too._

_But hey! At least it made for a good story._

_Write what you know, eh lads?_

* * *

Cass and Sheason were no longer sitting at the table playing cards. In fact, the two of them were no longer in the lounge at all. The two of them were sitting on a bench in the shade of an enormous palm tree, somewhere at a decent approximation of the boardwalk at Venice Beach.

Cass was leaning up against Sheason; he had his arm draped over her shoulder. The two of them were gazing at the ocean, watching the tide roll in as the sun sank slowly beyond the horizon. Cass' rattan hat had been cast aside, and was resting on the empty space next to them on the bench.

"Y'cooled off yet?" Cass asked, softly squeezing his hand. Sheason chuckled.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. I'm sorry for goin' off like that earlier, I just..." he sighed heavily.

"Yer frustrated, man," Cass said. "Trust me, ah get it. Y'see all this horrible shit goin' down in th' world, an' ye desperately wanna do somethin' 'bout all've it. That's just how y'are, y'can't help it."

"If this was Vegas, I'd be able to **do** something," Sheason sighed heavily. "Hell, we **did** something. That was kinda the whole point. I was in the right place at the right time."

"Yeah, but we ain't in Vegas anymore..." Cass said, reaching over to pat Sheason's cybernetic hand. "... an' this ain't th' kinda probl'm you can fix by punchin' it, y'know?"

"I don't know, I can punch pretty hard..." Sheason said with a smirk.


	4. Sexuality

Sheason and Cass were walking along the busy sidewalk. The sun may have set, but the vibrant neon signs all around them reflected off every surface, and a rainbow haze of bright, multicolored light seemed to blanket this unnamed city.

"... look, all ah'm sayin' is that ah get it, y'know?" Cass said to him as the pair made their way through the crowds. "It's a lot to take in, realizin' yer a fictional character an' all. Ah'm havin' t'deal with it, too. If ye need to talk 'bout it, I'm here f'you, a'right? Yer always here for me, so ah'm gonna return th' favor."

"Okay, look, just... drop it for now, alright?" Sheason grunted out, before sighing heavily. "I mean, I appreciate that you're trying to help. I do, I really do. But I told you before: I'm... I am not interested in talking about it. At least, not right now."

"Dude, th' fuck is this, man?" Cass asked. "Some kinda bad joke where th' punchline is machismo? What're you tryin' t'prove, an' t'who?"

Sheason didn't say anything at first. His gaze was fixed ahead, trying to ignore the fact that the crowd all around him was indistinct and out of focus; no one even had any faces. They were all just a blur. It was an illusion, meant to make the world around them feel more alive than it really was.

None of this was real.

"Look, we can... we'll talk about it later, alright? I promise. I just..." Sheason sighed heavily. He swallowed hard, trying to wash away the horrible dry sensation. "I'm not in the mood."

"Right, fine, suit yerself, ya stubborn asshole..." Cass rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Look, if y'don't wanna talk 'bout it, then maybe we can at least find a decent distraction. Y'wanna hit up a club, r'somethin'?"

"Yeah, sounds fun," Sheason shrugged. "What about the Five Star Saloon? I'm pretty sure it's karaoke night. Either that, or it's the weekly viewing party for RuPauls Drag Race. I can never really keep track."

"Wait..." Cass stopped in her tracks, furrowing her brow. "Hang on, isn't Five Star that gay bar over'n West Street?" Sheason nodded, and that just seemed to make Cass even more confused. "Okay, ah gotta ask: how th' hell **do** y'know where all th' gay joints are?"

Sheason looked at Cass curiously for a few seconds, trying (and failing) to hide an amused expression.

"Have we never... has this never actually come up? Because this, I _am_ willing to talk about." He gestured back and forth between the two of them. "You do realize that the two of us are both bisexual, right? It's not just you that's bi."

Cass blinked in confusion several times before her eyes went as wide as pie plates.

"Wait, yer **WHAT**?!" she shouted so loud, her voice echoed off the buildings around them for several seconds.

"Yeah. Honestly, I thought you would've picked up on that when we went looking for Arcade at the Dude Ranch, back in Vegas." Sheason said, vaguely gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb. "Both of us were ogling _everybody _that night, remember?" He let out a soft chuckle. "I mean, the mojito's they made were good, but they weren't _that _strong."

"But... hang on," Cass said, waving her hands. "This is big news! This shit changes everythin'! Ah'm just tryin' t'wrap m'head 'round this... if yer bi, then how come y'never went after Arcade?"

"Oh, so just 'cuz I like both ladies and dudes, I've gotta throw myself at the only other guy I know confirmed to like dick? C'mon, that's just silly" Sheason laughed, unable to hold back a smirk. "In all seriousness, don't get me wrong. He's a good looking guy, and he's fun to flirt with. It was great fun, finally meeting someone I could quote Top Gun with, y'know? But..." Sheason grimaced, looking for the words, until he finally shrugged. "He's just not my type. Plus, he waited until right before Hoover Dam to make a move, and that's just bad form."

"What d'ya mean he's not yer type?" Cass asked; Sheason coughed, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Alright, let me spell it out for you..." he chuckled. "Arcade and I? We're both _Tops_. If he and I got together... it would be... _awkward_. We can't _both _be the dominant one."

Cass considered this for a moment. She furrowed her brow and scratched her chin, deep in concentration, trying to work it out.

"Are you _sure_?" she finally asked. "I mean, y'saw the way he went all hot n'bothered when Chris showed up..."

"Well... yeah?" Sheason said, obviously confused. "That's because damn near _everyone_ got to pull the reaction to the 'Hi, I'm Captain Jack Harkness' gag when Chris showed up. The whole point of that joke was that he's supposed to have that sheer animal magnetism that makes **everybody** suddenly Horny On Main."

"Well, I didn't," Cass said, matter-of-factly, before adding under her breath: "At least, not at first..."

"That's because you like to play hard to get for your first impressions," he shot her a smirk.

Cass opened her mouth and raised a finger as if to argue, but quickly shut it after having a moment to think.

"... okay, yeah, that's fair."

"Besides," Sheason said. "I remember you telling me about that time you two fooled around. And if **that **is anything to go on, Chris' sexuality is just 'Yes,' so I don't think Arcade being a Top would pose much of a problem to that fuckin' Switch."

"Alright, but ahm still curious: how do **you** know 'bout Arcade's preferences, if th' two've you never got t'gether?"

"Alright, fine, for fuck sake," Sheason laughed, shaking his head. "I am not definitely, absolutely, 100%, _completely _sure, alright? I never got around to just flat-out asking, because I figured that would be rude, y'know? Either way, the Arcade Issue doesn't matter, because the big deal breaker for me was that he didn't make the first move until the _absolute _last minute, and we both knew nothing could come of it."

"So, what? Y'tellin' me that you – of all people - would _never_ make th' first move?" Cass asked, as the two of them finally started walking again. "Like, _ever_?"

"I didn't with you," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but, again, we ain't talkin' 'bout me," she said. "Why wouldn't you make th' first move?"

Sheason sighed heavily.

"Because, the first – and, so far, **only** – time I ever did that was when I got together with Tuera. I didn't wait for her; I just took the plunge and fell head-first down that fuckin' rabbit hole. And as you can imagine, that fucked me up for life." He paused for a moment, and then added: "Basically, every single one of my weird hangups I have about relationships can be traced either directly or indirectly to my time with her. It may have been pretty short, but it cast a long shadow..." He shrugged again. "Such is the folly of youth."

"Well, ah s'pose that kinda makes sense," Cass said, tipping her hat back. "She was th' one that got away, after all."

"I wish people would stop calling her that..." Sheason muttered under his breath. He reached out and draped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as the two of them walked. "Okay, so: now you're all caught up to speed. I say the two of us head out, we go and we have some fun, and then we find us a tasty snack that'll appeal to **both** our tastes. Whadda ya say? Sound like a plan?" Sheason held out his fist, and Cass grinned, giving him a top-bottom-knuckles fistbump.

"Fuckin' a! Tonight's gonna be a right laugh, innit?" Cass laughed, wrapping her arm around Sheason's waist. The two of them continued to walk down the sidewalk... but then Cass spoke up again. "Although... ah can't help shakin' th' feelin' we're forgettin' something..." She scratched the back of her head, knocking her hat forward slightly, before snapping her fingers. "Wait, weren't we supposed t'be answerin' some questions'r somethin' like that?"

Sheason briefly glanced over at the 4th wall.

"Yeah, I think we got that covered."

* * *

_You do know that wasn't the question I was planning on answering this time, right?_

* * *

"That's your problem," Sheason said aloud. Cass reached over and lightly batted him across the chest.

"Hey, c'mon, play nice. He's doin' his best..."


	5. Shenanigans

Sheason stood at the cliff's edge, looking at the endless ocean stretching to the horizon below him. The cool sea breeze swirled around him, and the salty sea air filled his nostrils. It was a nice scene. It should have been relaxing. After all, he did come here for the view, to try and clear his head. But... there was something bothering him

The sun was starting to rise. Normally, such a thing wouldn't be thought of as frustrating, and yet... Sheason found it immensely frustrating. The sun had set over this ocean several hours earlier, and now it was rising again from roughly the same spot. For Sheason, this was infuriating. He knew how the sun was supposed to work, and this was definitely **not** how the sun was supposed to work.

Nothing in this place made any sense. Place? City? World? _Universe_? He didn't even know anymore. Hell, he didn't even know how long he'd been here. How long had it been? He wasn't sure; without his Pip Boy, and no clocks anywhere, it was difficult to keep track. Assuming time here even worked the way it was supposed to. This place seemed to exist _outside_ of space and time, kind of like the Inventory. That said: the Inventory could be here, and he'd probably never know, simply due to the unique circumstances of even finding your way there in the first place...

Theoretically, he could go anywhere he wanted. There was nothing physically keeping him here. From everything he'd heard and seen, this place – whatever it was, really – was infinite. But there were only two places he wanted to go, and neither option was open to him. On the one hand, he wanted to go back to New Vegas, and pretend that things could go back to the way they used to be... but he couldn't go there, because his story was ended. That door was closed.

And on the other hand, he wanted to venture into the _Real World_.

He could see what was happening out there, and every injustice he saw reminded him of everything he fought against in Vegas. If only he could _get out_, maybe he could _do _something. Maybe he could _help._ He was the _Courier_, after all. He pulled off the impossible time and time again in the past. He took a stand against the evil, greedy, corrupt men of _his_ world, and he took them all apart like fucking abstract art! He helped out the people of the Mojave Wasteland, and made sure the people there could not only survive, but thrive!

Surely, those same sorts of evil men who were destroying the Real World with their hatred and greed for seemingly no reason at all... _surely_, they wouldn't be able to stand any sort of chance against the Indestructible Courier? There wasn't an army big enough that could take him down!

... but no. That world – the Real World – was off limits as well.

Because he was just a fictional character.

He _wasn't real_.

Sheason suddenly realized that his jaw was clenched. He tried to breathe in the salt air to try and calm himself down, but it wasn't really working. He looked down, and saw that his hands were balled into fists; his left arm was quaking, but his metal arm was steady as a rock. He opened his fists, and exhaled deeply.

"Hey," he said aloud, reaching into his jacket. He pulled out a package of cigarettes and Benny's lighter. "I know you can hear me."

There was no response.

"Oy! Fuckface!" he snarled louder, grabbing a smoke with his mouth and lighting it with a flick. "You're not fooling anybody. If I _exist_, then I **know** you can hear me. Answer."

* * *

_What do you want?_

* * *

"I just told you," Sheason said aloud, exhaling a dirty cloud of smoke from his nostrils. "Answer a question, so I don't have to think about this shit anymore. It's driving me nuts, and I need a distraction. Do your job, and answer some questions. After all, this whole thing is supposed to be called 'Question Time,' isn't it?"

* * *

_Uh... well. I could, but I'm gonna be honest: the question I planned on answering today... it PROBABLY isn't going to help distract you. Like, at all._

* * *

"Just fuckin' do it already, I don't care," he sighed heavily, shaking his head.

* * *

_**Sineec asks: "What type of shenanigans did Sheason get up to after the story ended?"**_

* * *

"OH FOR FUCK SAKE!" Sheason yelled.

* * *

_I told him, but he didn't believe me. Anyway, the question:_

_This is actually a tricky one to answer. I know it may not seem like it, considering what Sheason has been up to in this little Q&A thing, but this little bullshit story (as has been stated before) isn't canon. The events that are happening here – wherever the fuck here is, I still haven't actually decided – aren't even technically happening. At least, not in the context of the New Vegas story._

_Here's the thing: My original plan was for Sheason to genuinely die at the end of the story, sacrificing himself to stop Legate Lanius, saving Vegas, and being remembered as a martyr. Great! That would've been a great send off, and would've made use of the foreshadowing with the broken Pip Boy. As it is, the Pip Boy just ended up being a bookend, since the story started shortly before he got it, and ended shortly after he lost it._

_But the fact is... I'm an absolute sucker for a happy ending. After everything he went through, I didn't want to just kill him off, even if the story was ending anyway, and even if it would've made more sense thematically for me to do so. So I quickly wrote up that Afterword where it turned out Sheason was saved at the last minute by advanced alien super-science and was safe and sound aboard Mothership Zeta with the Lone Wanderer and Cass, and everything was sunshine and rainbows forever. Hooray!_

_Did it make sense? No. Did it potentially undermine the message of self sacrifice? Maybe. But did it make me feel better? Yes._

_At the end of the day, I don't think it really matters what Sheason got up to after the story came to a close. His story is finished, and I decided to deliberately leave that ending... somewhat vague and ambiguous. Do you want to ignore the Afterword entirely, and accept that he died a hero and was remembered as a martyr? Go for it. That was my original plan, after all. Alternatively, you can just assume that he and Cass went off on some crazy space adventures with the Lone Wanderer and crew as they left the solar system entirely in Mothership Zeta. That's fine, too. Or alternatively-alternatively, you can choose to believe both at once, and that what we saw in the Afterword was just a dying dream in the last moments before brain death as he bled out after his fight with Lanius from the massive, gaping, possibly infected, gut wound._

_Either way, Sheason never goes back to New Vegas. That's the important thing. Whatever adventures he may or may not be getting up to in canon after the events of New Vegas are not really all that important, because in at least half of those scenarios, he's probably dead anyway. Or not, and he's perfectly fine._

_As far as I'm concerned, whatever you personally chose to believe happened is the canon ending to that story._

_Still, it is a decent question: what DOES a fictional character do, once their story has ended? I guess you could say that I'm trying to figure that out myself with this little exercise in 4__th__ wall breaking._

_It's not the only thing I'm doing, but getting to examine the "medium awareness" trope – fictional characters that are aware of the fact that they're fictional – is one of my favorite things in media... especially since I'm able to use the existential angst to help me work out some of my own personal issues._

_I may be a sucker for a happy ending, but I'm clearly also a monster, since I can't stop tormenting my characters._

* * *

Sheason was back at his apartment. Or was it a house? Sheason wasn't quite clear. It never seemed to come into focus. It was one more thing in this place that was mutable and changing, depending on what was needed at the time. All that he knew for certain was that this is where he and Cass had been living ever since his story ended. And even his memories about that were questionable.

He opened the front door and his nostrils immediately filled with the smell of frying bacon and brewing coffee. He found his way to the kitchen, and saw Cass at the stove, tending the bacon with tongs in one hand, and holding a cup of piping hot coffee in the other. The mug had a picture of a bird, and was emblazoned with the phrase "I AM A GODDAMNED DELIGHT!"

"Oh, hey babe!" Cass nodded at his approach, shuffling the bacon around. "I was wonderin' where y'got off to. Y'want some breakfast?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," Sheason said. Cass pointed over her shoulder with the tongs in her hand.

"Well, we got more bacon in th' fridge, yer welcome to th' pan after ah'm finished." There was a ding from the other side of the kitchen, and she quickly tossed aside the tongs and ran to the sound. "Oh shit! M'waffles!"

"I think I'll just have some coffee for right now..." he said, grabbing a nearby cup and stirring in some sugar. "Actually... y'know, I... I wanted to apologize."

"Hm?" Cass looked up from the waffles on her plate.

"Y'know, for the other day, when I brushed you off about trying to talk to me about the... the whole 'fictional character' thing, y'know?" he started slowly stirring his coffee. "This shit is really fuckin' with me, and it's like..." he took out the spoon and sipped the coffee to stall for time. "It's the fact that I constantly have to deal with it now. Before, when I'd go to the Inventory for a drink between chapters, it would be... _sort of_ in the back of my mind? But it wasn't _always_ there, like it is now. And I just thought, y'know... maybe I could manage it if I distracted myself so I _wasn't _thinking about it all the time."

"Makes sense..." Cass shrugged.

"And the bitch of it is, it's not that I don't _want _to talk about it. I do, and believe me, I am _definitely_ glad that you're here for me. It's just that I don't know _how _to talk about all the shit going on in my head and everything I've been thinking about and everything that's been frustrating me without coming across as a massive fucking tool."

"Well, y'kinda failed on that front," she smirked, tossing the no-longer-scalding bacon onto her plate. "Ah figured you were keepin' quiet 'bout it cuz you were tryin' some kinda macho 'I'll do it myself' bullshit r'something."

Sheason took another sip of coffee and shrugged.

"Well, you're not entirely wrong," he said. "I mean, that's definitely part of the problem. When we were in Vegas, I got so used to my routine of 'here's a very obvious problem going on, imma go fuck it up,' or 'here are some people in trouble, let's go save them,' and I... I just..." he sighed heavily.

"An' y'can't do that anymore," Cass finished for him. Sheason nodded.

"At least not for the shit I want to fix..." He sighed again, and took another sip of coffee. "How do you deal with it?"

"Well, ah don't got that instinct, fer one," Cass chuckled, taking a bite out of one of her waffles. "Yer th' one who has that whole 'Gung-Ho Heroic Man-Of-Action' vibe 'bout ya. You see people in trouble, yer first instinct is to try'n help. An' yeah, ah'll help if I can, but..." she shrugged again. "No sense worryin' 'bout somethin' ya can't do nothin' 'bout, y'know?"

"So focused on staying alive, you don't have time for anything else..." Sheason muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "Yeah... I remember when I was like that..." He barely finished speaking before Cass started laughing.

"You fuckin' with me?" she said through guffaws. "Y'all were never like that. I r'member you tellin' me stories 'bout the kinda shit y'got up to in places like Shady Sands, Vault City, Sac Town, New Reno, fuckin' up'n Portland, even!" As she spoke, she counted down on her fingers. "Hell, just pick **any **story 'bout you'n Jessica out in Sac Town! Whenev'r there was some shit goin' down, y'all were abs'lutely first t'step up."

Sheason was silent for a very long time. His brow furrowed, and his gaze seemed to become unfocused.

"You know... you say that..." he started to shake his head. "But the more I try and think back to those days... I can't really remember any of the details. Like they never even really happened." he looked up and shrugged with a defeated expression, letting out a single bitter chuckle. "Thinking about it, I suppose they never really did."

Cass sighed heavily, and reached into her pocket, pulling out a smartphone, of all things. Sheason seemed incredibly taken aback, looking at her curiously as she started quickly tapping at the screen with her thumb.

"You have a cell phone?" Sheason asked with incredulity. Cass shrugged.

"What can I say? I like playin' Pokémon Go," she said. Sheason laughed.

"That certainly explains the phone case," he said, pointing at the Eevee design on the case, and the Pokéball pop-socket on the back. Cass beamed with a wide grin and shot him a wink.

"Fuckin' a! B'sides, it's more handy than y'might think. An' I am currently textin' an expert on this sort've thing."

"An expert?" Sheason asked. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "What kind of expert?" Without really thinking, he made his way to see who was there. Cass nodded, putting her phone back in her pocket, and reaching for more bacon.

"Someone who's definitely gone through this whole 'I'm a fictional character an' I don't know what's real anymore,' thing yer goin' through, an' who's definitely gonna know more 'bout this than me."

"Oh yeah? Who?" As Sheason asked, he absentmindedly reached for the door and pulled it open. When he turned to the now open door, he was face-to-chest with an up-armored blue Vault suit. He looked up, and saw the mirrored shades sitting on Chris' smiling face looking down at him.

"Hello!"


	6. Relation

Cass, Christopher, and Sheason were all sitting at a round table in the middle of Sheason and Cass' place. The three of them were drinking coffee and talking, and the empty plates from their breakfast were shoved to the side, out of the way. Sheason curiously looked up, directly at the 4th wall, and gave the audience a wave.

"Hello, everyone!" he said, trying to smile despite an exhausted expression. "The three of us will get to you guys in a minute. We're still kind of in the middle of something."

"Right, so..." Cass took a sip of her coffee, finishing it off. "Explain t'me how y'figured out y'were fictional 'gain? Cuz I'm not sure I get it."

"To be honest, I think I always kind of knew," Christopher shrugged. "I mean, I've never really been a _character_, like you guys. I've always been more of a plot device than anything."

"Yeah, you're gonna have to elaborate on that one," Sheason said, shaking his head. "I don't get it either." Christopher chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"Okay, so... I'll try to keep this brief, but no promises," he said. "When the guy writing this story played Fallout 3, he did so with a walkthrough he found specifically for min-maxing a character to a, quite frankly, _**ludicrous**_ degree. And that's what I am: a min/maxed character. The actions I took as soon as I left Vault 101 never really made sense, from a narrative point of view."

Cass and Sheason looked at each other curiously, and then back at Chris, who chuckled again.

"Right, let me give you a couple of examples. First thing I did after getting out of the Vault was make a beeline for Rivet City. Now, if I had been following the quote-unquote 'story,' then I would've gone to Megaton first. There was no in-universe reason to head to Rivet City so early; however, because of how my SPECIAL stats were set up – mostly low to middling except for a 1 in Charisma and, critically, a 9 in Intelligence – I went to Rivet City, because that's where you find the Intelligence bobblehead. Get that before level 3 with Broken Steel installed, and you have the max of 20 skill points per level, for 27 levels. Combine that with the Comprehension perk, a map of where you can find every skill book in the game, and a few exploits like the Big Guns book that always drops from the respawning raider in the Bethesda Ruins, and it was trivial for me to get 100 in all my skills way before max level."

Christopher paused to take a sip from his coffee before continuing.

"And that's just a small taste of the stat building chicanery I was involved in. After I picked up the Intelligence bobblehead, I went to Bailey's Crossroads. You'd think I'd want to get the rest of the SPECIAL bobbleheads next, but getting the rest of those didn't come until after I hit level 30 and took the 'Almost Perfect' perk. That's how I was able to get 10's across the board."

"You know, maybe I'm just thick," Sheason shook his head and sighed. "But this still just sounds like a load of gibberish."

"Trust me, it makes sense," Christopher chuckled. "I'll let you borrow my GOTY later, and I'm sure you'll understand it after playing it a few hours. Either way, there was no _story_ reason for me to head to Bailey's Crossroads, except for the Brotherhood Outcast distress signal my Pip Boy picked up. The _actual_ reason I went there directly after Rivet City was to get power armor training and grab the glitched set of Winterized T-51b power armor."

"Glitched?" Cass raised an eyebrow. "What d'ya mean, glitched?"

"Okay," Chris set his coffee down. "You remember how when we were up in the Secret Nazi Moon Base, fighting the Enclave, and my set of power armor seemed completely indestructible? Like, it didn't take a single scratch?"

"It was a bit scuffed by the time we fought Panzer..." Sheason said.

"Yeah, but we'd been fightin' those fuckers all damn day. **All**'ve us were all runnin' ragged at th' end there," Cass shot back as she sipped her coffee.

"You're missing the point," Christopher continued. "Because Bethesda are crap game designers, they mixed up some code somewhere. The set of power armor you get as a reward was _supposed_ to only be available in the Operation Anchorage _simulation_. It has almost a million hit points, as opposed to the meager one thousand it was _intended_ to have. It's so absurdly high, it is effectively unbreakable, and it is **completely** ridiculous. I love it. Combine that with the Superior Defender perk I picked up in Point Lookout, and that's how I'm able to take missiles to the face without flinching!"

"So, what?" Sheason still seemed a bit confused. "Because of all that, you think you're just a plot device?" Chris nodded happily.

"Kinda, yeah. I mean, there's a reason the guy writing this story never wrote a Fallout 3 fanfic, and has no plans to ever do so. I'd be terrible as a main character, because nothing would make sense! Like... the explanation for how I can break the 4th wall, even when I'm in character, is supposed to be because of that chunk of my brain taken out by rednecks in Point Lookout, right? Well, my actions leading **up** to that point **still** wouldn't have made any kind of sense, because I was _already_ using outside knowledge from the gamefaqs walkthrough that I couldn't **possibly** have known at **any** point. I was breaking the 4th wall long before I was supposed to be able to, because I was deliberately avoiding the main story, and that means my actions make no narrative sense. And that's not good if you want to write a story with a coherent narrative."

"Back up," Sheason said, lifting up a pair of fingers. "You _deliberately_ avoided doing the main story?" Chris nodded. "Why?"

"Because the story of Fallout 3 is crap, man!" Chris started laughing. "The main quest is a bunch of boring garbage of no consequence! There's barely any story at all, and it just sort of happens 'at' you, and you're basically just a camera with legs. There's no decisions to make, there's no choices, and barely any adventure; it's just 'follow the objective marker on your Pip Boy until further notice.' I mean, don't get me wrong: the Capital Wasteland is definitely fun, and it has its strong points. If you just want to wander around, drink in the atmosphere, and blow shit up, then you're golden. But the actual 'story' is dogshit, especially compared to New Vegas. Not even the calm and soothing tones of Liam Neeson's voice as James can salvage it."

"Y'know, that's a handy link," Sheason took another sip of coffee, turning back to the 4th wall. "After all, the question this time is related to James. Let's deal with that now!"

* * *

_**Did we ever figure out Sheason's relation to the Lone Wanderer or Chosen One?**_

_There is an answer to this, but I'm not going to be the one to give it. Instead, I'm going to let Sheason and Christopher deal with this particular problem. I'm not really in the mood, and they'll do a much better job._

* * *

"Wait, what?" Christopher asked, looking around. "What's going on?"

"Hold up, motherfucker," Sheason said, more than a little bit angry now. "This whole operation was your idea. And now you don't want to answer any questions?"

* * *

_I just think this specific question will be better handled if you guys answer it. Besides, it's a topic that you probably need to discuss with Cass anyway._

* * *

"_With_ me?" Cass seemed taken aback. "What've I gotta do with this?"

Sheason and Christopher looked at each other; Chris tried his best to keep himself from laughing.

"Should we tell her?" Sheason asked, taking another sip of coffee.

"Yeah, might as well," Chris shrugged with a smile.

"Tell me _what_?" Cass asked, more than a little annoyed. "Th' fuck're you guys talkin' 'bout?"

"We're half-brothers." Christopher said, gesturing between himself and Sheason, as if he was stating the obvious.

Cass stared at the pair of them for a few moments, stunned with a slack-jawed expression on her face.

"... are y'all fuckin' with me?"

"Nah, it's true," Sheason smiled, leaning back in his chair. "I mean, don't feel bad. There weren't really **any** obvious hints. Like... at all."

"I figured it out," Chris said with a smile. Sheason rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well _you_ don't count," Sheason said. "You _cheat_." Chris just started laughing.

"I don't cheat," he said, pointing at Sheason. "I _min/max_!"

"Okay, fuckin' both've ye... back up a minute!" Cass yelled, pointing at the two of them. "_How_? How'd y'all _know_ yer half brothers r'whatever?"

"Do you want the canon explanation for how I know?" Christopher asked, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "... or do you want to hear the _real _way I know?"

Cass paused, considering the options.

"Canon first, please," Cass said, finally. "It'll prob'ly be more interestin'."

"Well, there were a few hints, but because this is, y'know... _text_, and not visual, nobody else was given a chance to figure it out. For one thing, we have the same color eyes."

Christopher lifted up his mirrored sunglasses briefly, and Cass leaned in over the table to get a closer look. Sure enough, the two of them had the exact same shade of bright blue eyes.

"Same jaw-line, too," Chris said, letting his sunglasses fall back down his nose. "Though, that's less obvious because of his beard. He's the right age to have been born after the Enclave Oil Rig went boom. And finally, we have the same color hair." Cass furrowed her brow and screwed up her face in confusion.

"What? No y'don't. I mean, unless you've forgotten that yer blonde."

"What, this?" Chris pointed at his spiky blonde hair with a laugh. "This isn't my natural hair color, you kidding? Nah, my hair is the same shade of brown as Sheason over here. See, a friend of mine back in DC, Butch, he's a hair stylist. I get him to dye it blonde, because I think it's _hilarious_ to run around the wasteland looking like the Vault Boy."

He sat up straight in his chair and took off his sunglasses, giving Cass an over-the-top thumbs-up and a wink, just like the classic Vault Boy pose.

"Oh, and, there was one other thing," Chris said, putting his sunglasses back on. "I had Moira run a blood test on Sheason before we went to the Enclave base. She sequenced the DNA, using some of the reverse-engineered Mothership Zeta tech, and from there, it was easy enough to figure out that James was his father, too."

"Wait, blood test?" Sheason asked, curiously. "I don't remember you taking any blood." Chris merely smiled from behind his sunglasses.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't," he said softly, continuing to smile. Sheason suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"... you scare me, sometimes." Sheason said.

"An' th' real reason?" Cass asked. Christopher turned back to her, with a much less sinister smile.

"I just looked at the author's notes. It's a lot more detailed than I was expecting, because he has this whole theory about the Fallout series. Or..." Chris chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "At least, he _did _before Fallout 4 and 76 ruined everything..."

Cass looked over to Sheason, who was calmly leaning back in his chair again.

"Anything t'add?" she asked. Sheason shook his head, and took a final sip of coffee before standing up to get more.

"Nah, let Chris have his fun. Besides, he's better at explaining this shit than I would be."

"It's like I told you!" Chris spread his arms wide, practically beaming. "I'm a plot device!"

"That's great," Cass said, shaking her head. "So, what's this 'bout some sort've theory?"

"Oh, it's this whole thing he came up with, that all the main characters from the Fallout games are related to one another. It starts with David, the Vault Dweller: his character from Fallout 1. He beats The Master, wanders into the wasteland, founds Arroyo, meets Pat, and settles down. A few decades later, we get his grandson, James, the Chosen One. And this is where it gets a bit fuzzy, because _technically _James from Fallout 3 was born in _2226_, and the 'canon' birth year of the Chosen One was in _2221_. But the author liked the idea that Liam Neeson was the Chosen One, so he just sort of fudged the dates a bit. Either way, that was the game where he picked the 'Jinxed' trait, and the whole thing was just a hilarious circus of exploding guns and ridiculous failure."

"Yeah, an' then he met m'dad, didn't he?" Cass asked, and Christopher nodded.

"He did, but John Cassidy wasn't the only one in that little group; I'm sure you remember Marcus telling you the same thing. During his adventures, James met a girl named Miria in Modoc." Chris paused for a moment, trying to think of the correct phrasing. "It was a... shotgun wedding, according to the notes. Quite literally; Miria's father, Grisham, forced the two of them to get hitched at gunpoint after he caught them in... well, put bluntly, the middle of things."

"I guess we all like t'have that sort've fun, don't we?" Cass started laughing, nodding at Sheason who was busy by the coffee machine, pretending to pour more sugar in his cup. "So, what happened?"

"The Enclave happened. James' adventuring troupe may have blown up the Oil Rig, but there were still a lot of Enclave troops who hadn't headed East with the rest, and they were all out for revenge. A Verti-squad caught up with them and blew up the Highwayman, James' car. There was a huge firefight, and... you know how I said James took the 'Jinxed' trait?"

"Yeah..." Cass said. She was leaning forward, clearly getting interested now.

"Well, turns out, **he** forgot. First thing he grabbed from the wreck of his car was a Gauss rifle, and the damn thing exploded in his hands. He was sent flying off a cliff, and landed in a fast moving river. By the time he washed up on shore, he was miles downstream, half drowned, and almost dead from the rads. When he finally healed up and got back to the wreck of his car, his friends were all gone, and there was no way to know if they were alive or dead. So... he just started walking. He headed East, and didn't stop until he hit the Atlantic Ocean. He settled in DC, joined up with the Purity Project, met Catherine and... well, the rest is history."

"An' Miria? What happened t'her?" Cass asked. She briefly glanced at Sheason, to try and gauge his reaction; he was still busying himself with his coffee, trying to hide his expression behind the coffee cup.

"She went back home. I mean, the group tried to look for James, but after two weeks of nothing, they assumed the worst. They all parted ways, Miria went back to her dad's place, and gave birth to little 'Jason' over there..." Chris gestured over at Sheason. "...about five months later. She wasn't really the 'parenting' type, and she kinda knew that. So, she ended up giving him away, and 'Gap-Tooth' Harry raised him alongside the rest of that caravan."

Cass didn't say anything for a minute or two as she let all that sink in. Eventually, she shook her head.

"Fuckin' hell, an' I thought I had it bad when my pa left..." she started scratching her head. "An' that was all in th' Author's notes?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Sheason said, finally setting his coffee cup down.

"So, why th' fuck didn't that asshole writer put any've that shit in the actual fuckin' **story**?" Cass asked. Christopher and Sheason looked at each other, and Sheason shrugged.

"Well, I mean..." Christopher chucked, reaching for his coffee. "The two of us don't actually _know_ any of this, in canon. At least, I'm _pretty sure_ we don't. And the author was never able to think of a way to present it in the story without it seeming incredibly contrived, so he just decided to not bring it up."

"And now, he just doesn't care," Sheason added with a shrug.

Cass tried to mull over this deluge of new information for a few minutes. And then:

"Hang on, is _this _why y'turned me down when I suggested a three-way?"

Chris started choking on his coffee, trying and failing not to laugh. Sheason, meanwhile, just shook his head and chuckled.

"Yeah, pretty much," Sheason shrugged. "I mean, this ain't Game of Thrones, after all."


	7. Titan II

Sheason had been quiet for a long time, as the conversation continued to happen at and around him, rather than _with_ him. Cass may have invited Christopher over to help Sheason deal with his current issues, but it was becoming clearer with every passing minute that Chris was going to be absolutely no help here at all.

Not due to lack of trying, of course. Chris was a stand-up guy, and he was doing his best. But the more Sheason listened to one rambling anecdote after another, the more he realized: the very nature of Christopher's existence as a self-described "plot device" meant he never actually came to terms with being fictional. That knowledge had been baked into his identity from the start.

Sheason's issues were completely alien to the Lone Wanderer.

"... so the next thing I know, I'm knee-deep in cheese sauce and bacon grease, and the guy tells me I'm not allowed to come in anymore," Chris said, bringing yet another absurd story to a close.

"Fuck sake, man!" Cass shook her head as she laughed. "Th' fuck did y'expect after all that?" Sheason nodded, finishing off the last of his coffee and getting up.

"She does have a point. And, this has been fun, but..." Sheason said, stretching audibly as he stepped away from the table. "Uh... yeah. I think I need to get a bit of air, y'know?"

"Hey, no worries!" Chris replied with a smile, leaning back in his chair. "Do what you gotta do, man." Cass, meanwhile, just furrowed her brow with concern.

"You alright?" she asked. Sheason smiled back, nodding at her.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," he lied. "Besides, I know the _real_ reason you invited Chris over, so I'll give you two some space."

"Real... reason?" Cass blinked at Sheason; she was genuinely confused. Sheason chuckled, walked up to Cass, and plucked her rattan hat off her head. Before she could protest, he reached into the inner brim, pulled out a condom, placed it in her hand, and gave her hat back. Cass face immediately went flush.

"You keep Jimmy Hats in your hat?" Chris asked with a bemused chuckle.

"Wh- yeah, ah've always kept'm up there, bu- hang on!" Cass suddenly realized that Sheason was already at the door, and scrambled to get up from the table to follow him. She grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to face her. "Look, I invited 'im over cuz ah genuinely thought he could help, ah wasn't tryin' t'get lucky behind yer back. I mean..." She smiled, placing a hand on his cheek. "C'mon. Y'know me. Ah've always been honest with you 'bout foolin' around, same as you've been honest with me."

"Fair enough, I believe you," Sheason said with a smile, and he meant it. Truthfully, he really did believe Cass' intentions of bringing Chris over to help were genuine. But he still needed a way to distract the two of them so they wouldn't follow. He wanted... _needed..._ some time alone.

"I just need to get some air, y'know?" he shrugged. "I'm gonna go for a walk, so... you kids have fun. Don't worry, I'm cool with it." He wrapped an arm around her waist and gently kissed her forehead. "Stay safe. I'll be back later." He let go of her and gave her one last wink before stepping out the door.

Click.

Sheason sighed heavily and started walking. The scenery all around him seemed to melt away, blurring together, and he made his way forward with no real goal or destination in mind. He pulled a packet of smokes out of his jacket, grabbed one with his mouth, and lit up without thinking.

Next thing he knew, it was night.

The sky above him, stained with a mixture of royal blue and streaks of bright pink, was dotted by the pinpricks of stars and planets. There was even a gas giant with enormous silvery rings dominating the far end of the horizon. Somehow, the absurd details in this alien night sky were all still visible, despite the ocean of multicolored neon lights in the city all around him. The sounds, the colors, and the faces... they all blurred together, and he found it all but impossible to focus on anything. It was almost like the world was sped up, and Sheason was moving through it all in slow motion.

Had the time _really_ passed, he asked himself; or was it just his _perception_ of time that was skewed? He wasn't sure.

Just another thing that didn't make sense.

He looked down at the cigarette in his hands. Hardly any of it had been burned away.

He grabbed hold of the railing, and took another drag. He looked around, and suddenly realized that he wasn't even walking anymore. Where _was_ he now? Some kind of balcony? A rooftop, maybe? Yeah, it must have been some kind of rooftop, since he could see the lights of the city below him...

"I wondered when I would finally run into you," a silky smooth voice echoed from behind him. The sound wafted through the air like the scent of expensive perfume. Sheason perked up at the sound. It sounded somewhat familiar to his ears, but...

Sheason turned to look in the direction of the voice. A feminine figure was cloaked in shadow, standing at the other end of the roof. A pair of red eyes glinted from out of the darkness, shining like a pair of blood-red rubies.

"Hang on, I know you..." Sheason said to the woman as she stepped out of the shadows. "You're that _other _Tuera I saw in the Inventory. From that one time I met my counterpart from Azeroth. You're the warlock, right? Aren't you a supervillain, or something?"

"Not really," Tuera said, sauntering over to him. "At least... not anymore." She smiled broadly and snapped her fingers. Green fire swirled around her, and suddenly a red carpet unrolled at her feet, bridging the gap between Sheason and herself. A lighting grid also appeared overhead with multiple colored spotlights, providing a suitably dramatic atmosphere for her approach. "Though, I still have a taste for theatricality and presentation."

Sheason shook his head and exhaled a cloud of smoke from his nostrils. He had left his apartment specifically to avoid talking to anyone. But, he could tell already: she wasn't going to leave.

"Alright, so tell me..." he took one last puff of his cigarette before flicking it aside. "What does a walking nuclear bomb want with me?"

Tuera came to a stop in front of him, raising an eyebrow in an indignant expression.

"Really?" she scoffed. "That's the _best_ segue you could come up with?" Sheason shrugged.

"Hey, don't blame me," he said, looking off to the side directly at the 4th wall. "Blame the guy writing this, feeding me my lines. Why else do you think it's been almost a month since the last chapter? He's been agonizing about how to write this bullshit, finally said 'fuck it, that'll do,' and settled for this."

* * *

_**Falloutman111 asks: "**__**Why describe the ICBM in Lonesome Road as a Titan 2? Most of those were retired in the 80s and the Fallout handbook and vdsg state that most nuclear weapons in the fallout universe didn't go over 750 kilotons, which would explain the high radiation levels but (relatively) little blast damage inflicted. Especially when the nuclear missiles you could launch in Fort Constantine in Fallout 3 were described as Minuteman XI missiles?"**_

_There are a couple of reasons. The first (and the simplest explanation, if I'm honest) boils down simply to the in-game design of the missiles themselves. If you go onto the Fallout wiki and look up "intercontinental ballistic missile" and check out the in-game model, and then you go to proper Wikipedia and look up "LGM-25C Titan II," you'll see that the missiles are practically identical to one another. Even the warheads you can blow up with the laser detonator are clearly and blatantly Mark 6 reentry vehicles. The design is unmistakable, and the missiles you see in the game bear absolutely no resemblance to any of the missiles in the Minuteman line. And just because the missiles used in Fallout 3 were described as Minuteman XI, does not necessarily mean that ALL of the missiles used by the US in the Fallout universe were exactly the same. After all, the current US arsenal in the real world still uses a wide variety of launch vehicles and delivery systems._

_So, that's one reason. But there is another, narrative-fueled, reason for the missiles being Titan II. It actually goes a bit deeper than just "the missiles look the same," but it is going to require a bit of backstory._

_Before I started writing any of the Lonesome Road chapters, I did a lot of research into the actual effects of nuclear weapons. This is because the scene where you launch the nuke in Lonesome Road is treated almost as a non event. You can almost miss it if you're not paying attention. I know this, because I genuinely DID miss it, first time playing._

_I was determined to make sure that when the moment arrived, and Sheason launched the nuke by accident... no one would be able to miss it. I wanted to make sure that 'launching a nuclear weapon' was going to be treated with the magnitude and horror it deserved. _

_So I started researching. And to be perfectly honest, finding out the actual effects and studying eyewitness accounts – specifically of the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki - were some of the most mentally and emotionally taxing things I've ever done in my entire life. I know that may seem strange, but it's like... before doing any research, I only had a vague understanding of "nukes are bad" and "they're incredibly destructive." Because I had never really wanted to think about it, I'd never really internalized the scale of just how unimaginably nightmarish nuclear weapons truly are. And being forced to confront that reality was..._

_It wasn't good._

_The story that stuck with me the most was Akiko Takakura. She was 300 meters away from the hypocenter of the Hiroshima blast, and only survived because she was in the Bank of Hiroshima at the time: a reinforced concrete building that broke the "line-of-sight" between her and the blast. The details of how she survived and the days that followed were... horrific. It was heartbreaking. _

_It was specifically because of her story that I included that detail about the black rain._

_The point is, in order for the moment to convey the sense of scale needed, where the effects of the nuclear blast going off would be felt for the rest of the story, I knew that it needed to be big. During my research I found a number of programs online that simulated the effects of various nuclear weapons, such as the radius of the fireball, the heat wave, the shock wave, the overpressure wave of displaced air, the amount and type of fallout that would occur depending on if it was a ground-level explosion or an air burst. And out of all the potential scenarios I modeled, the only one the captured the scale of what I wanted was the 9 megaton B53 warhead used by the Titan II missiles... which, coincidentally, matched the visual design of the missiles seen in Lonesome Road. So, it seemed like a good fit._

_When I was figuring out the final details of how things would go down in the story, I made sure that Sheason's location would essentially be the most favorable conditions possible to enhance his chances of survival, while still technically being within the danger zone. And, according to the calculations I ran, he was still about 33 miles away from the hypocenter. If he had been any closer to the explosion, he would have been at risk of 2__nd__ and 3__rd__ degree burns. Hell, if he hadn't been taking cover, ducking as far as he could underneath that console inside that fortified concrete bunker, breaking line of sight between him and the explosion, it would have been a lot worse for him._

_And that detail about breaking line of sight is VERY important. Falloutman111 seems to think that lower yield equals less blast damage inflicted, and that's... not entirely accurate, at least as far as I determined from my research. See, fallout from a nuclear explosion is created when solid matter is drawn into the heart of the reaction, exposed to intense radiation, and then is forced out into the atmosphere by the intense pressure and heat of the explosion. Ground-level detonations create an enormous amount of fallout, because there is a lot of matter at the heart of the explosion that is exposed to radiation, but there's (comparatively) little immediate damage in the blast radius, because there are objects at ground level blocking line of sight._

_I know this may sound counterintuitive, because we all collectively seem to have this idea that nuclear weapons just vaporize everything in their path (probably due to the widespread footage of the Teapot Apple II test), but if there are solid objects between you and the explosion, the safer you're going to be. That's why Akiko Takakura, standing in a reinforced concrete structure and with obstructed line of sight, managed to survive 300 meters away from the hypocenter, whereas there was a person who was 15 feet away from her, outside, directly in line of sight to the explosion, and they were reduced to a black smear on the pavement._

_Most US built nuclear weapons are designed to be air burst weapons, which means that relatively little particulate matter is drawn into the explosion, creating very little fallout (comparatively speaking), but they are more immediately destructive. After all, there's nothing blocking line of sight when you're hundreds of feet above the target. So, really, what that tells me is that the Chinese missiles in the Fallout universe waited to detonate until they were very close to the surface, creating less immediate destruction, but more long term damage in terms of radioactive fallout. _

_Of course, if the weapon is large enough – say, 9 megatons – it's still going to produce considerable fallout, even if it is an airburst. That's why we got the black rain._

_One final note: according to my calculations, the top of the mushroom cloud reached 93,530 feet high (give or take). It breached the lower levels of the stratosphere. It could be seen clearly from Whitney Peak – the real world location of Vault 13. And that means the mushroom cloud could also be seen clearly from Shady Sands. People noticed. I'm sure there were some very urgent, very important, high-level phone calls exchanged between President Kimball and Ambassador Crocker when it was night, and then very briefly, it suddenly wasn't._

_If it seems like my descriptions during this whole spiel have been a bit dry, that's because using cold, clinical numbers when describing the effects of nuclear weapons is really the only way I can... process all of this. If there is one thing, and only one thing, you take away from Sheason's Story, it should be the same lesson Sheason learned when he first saw the mushroom cloud, and was rendered speechless with awestruck horror:_

_Nuclear weapons are terrifying and destructive on a scale that the human mind simply cannot adequately comprehend. The idea that "mutually assured destruction" is a deterrent to their use is utterly insane, because it falls apart the moment you realize that humans are not rational actors. Put simply, nuclear weapons are a blight upon the human race._

_. . ._

_You know, I was going to have an outro to this chapter, with Courier Sheason and Warlock Tuera interacting with one another a bit more, but... there's no way I can come back from this without some sort of distance. I'm exhausted, and I need my head to stop pounding before I can write anything else._

_Sheason's meta-narrative journey of self discovery is going to continue in the next chapter._

_Whenever the fuck that's going to be._


	8. Lanius

Sheason and Tuera were sitting opposite each other at a small table, right next to the rooftop railing. They were still on the same balcony Sheason had unexpectedly found himself on, but he couldn't quite recall how they came to be sitting down. There were several more tables around them that weren't there before, all bustling with activity of people eating and drinking and waiters buzzing from table to table. The sounds provided a dull blanket of background noise: noticeable, but not distracting. The city seemed to stretch out forever below them. The stars and planets glittered and gleamed overhead.

And Sheason was still trying to wrap his head around the precise moment his life got so weird.

If nothing else, he had a drink to help him with his thoughts, but even this was slightly off in ways that put him ill at ease. For instance: he was drinking an Old Fashioned, but instead of an ice cube, there was a tiny sphere that glowed with an eerie phosphorescent blue in the center of his glass. To add to this, the tumbler was unnaturally cold to the touch, yet there was no condensation on the sides at all. His fingers weren't even wet.

But at least the glass held liquor that Sheason could positively identify as 'Very Definitely Bourbon.' This put it miles ahead of whatever the fuck Tuera was drinking. It was some kind of glowing bright neon green in a martini glass. Smoke was pouring off the edges, like it held sublimating dry ice. There was a wedge of fruit on the edge of the glass that might have looked like an orange or a slice of lemon if it wasn't _pink_.

"So," Sheason said, finally breaking the silence between them. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Tuera smiled with faux-innocence behind her delicately held martini glass.

"Why, whatever do you mean?" she asked, knowing full well _exactly_ what he meant.

"You acted like you were expecting me," Sheason replied. "I guess I'm just trying to figure out if you're responsible for all of..." he gestured vaguely at their surroundings. "...this."

"If you're talking about the restaurant, no, this isn't one of mine," Tuera chuckled softly. "But I _was_ expecting to see you. It's come to my attention that you're having a bit of difficulty acclimating to your life here. You know, trying to come to grips with the true nature of your existence, and all that. Once I heard that, I knew that you would find your way to me, eventually."

"You did, huh," Sheason said flatly. It wasn't a question. He regarded her through narrow eyes, not even trying to disguise his scrutiny. But Tuera seemed unfazed.

"Oh, of course! I'm in a unique position to help you. Don't get me wrong, I can certainly understand where Miss Cassidy's mind was, calling on the Lone Wanderer to help. But just because Christopher was always aware of his fictional status doesn't mean he isn't still a dumbass. Meanwhile, I've actually _studied _this Inbetween that we inhabit. It was practically inevitable that we would run into each other at some point. I just wasn't expecting to see you _so soon_."

"So... you didn't bring me here?" Sheason asked. Tuera rolled her eyes dismissively.

"Oh, _please_. Don't flatter yourself, you're not _that_ important."

Sheason bristled at her words, and he wasn't entirely sure why.

"And besides," she continued. "Between touring for my new album and my half-dozen other obligations, I'm far too busy lately to engage in that kind of chicanery. But, as fate would have it, you wandered up and I decided to make the most of the opportunity. So, here we are."

"Hrm," Sheason grunted, taking another sip of his drink.

Everything about this Tuera felt _off_ to Sheason, and it was making him distinctly uncomfortable. From the pair of black three-toed claw silhouettes tattooed on her cheeks; to her elegant (silk?) outfit; to her casual demeanor of being in absolute control, reinforced by a seemingly ever-present smirk; to the frankly ludicrous amount of jewelry she was wearing; to her elegantly styled hair, held in place by at least six braids (that he could see); to her pointed ears; to her bright red eyes that seemed to glitter and gleam with every subtle motion...

All of this was completely at odds to the Tuera _he_ knew, and it was making his head spin.

He couldn't help but think back to when the Enclave assassin was revealed to have been Tuera all along, and the moment he came face to face with _her_. He remembered how surprised and shocked he was that someone with the same face of someone so familiar was so vastly different to the person he remembered. Now he was once again face-to-face with someone who had broadly the same... well, _face_, and just like before, everything about her was completely different.

He didn't have this much trouble dealing with meeting _his_ counterpart in the Inventory, so why was this throwing him off?

"Look," Tuera cooed playfully, pulling Sheason out of his thoughts. "If my appearance is _really_ bothering you _that_ much, I can always slip into something you might find more familiar."

Tuera took a sip from her drink, set down the glass, and snapped her fingers. There was a swirl of green flame around her head, and her face seemed to shimmer and transform; not drastically, but enough. Her tattoos disappeared and were replaced with a large claw-shaped scar on the left side of her face, her eyes changed color from red to bright green, and her hair instantly pulled itself into a functional and entirely practical bun at the back of her skull. Ignoring her outfit, the warlock had turned herself into an exact replica of the Enclave assassin from Sheason's memories, right down to the cold, businesslike expression.

Sheason's eye twitched.

"Nope," he finally coughed out, shaking his head. "No, I don't like that." Tuera just laughed, snapping her fingers again; there was another burst of flame, and her appearance shifted back to normal.

"Just as well, probably," she said with a sly smirk. "I don't think I could've maintained the act of 'emotionally distant mop in a catsuit' for very long without cracking up. I honestly don't know how the Tuera from your world manages."

"Yeah, a question for the ages..." Sheason muttered under his breath, finishing off his drink. He started to set it down, but then caught a glimpse of the glass refilling itself. He rubbed the scar on his temple and tried to ignore it. "So, how did you-"

"Know what you were thinking?" Tuera smiled broadly, waggling her eyebrows at him. "One needn't be psychic to know what _you're_ thinking. It's written all over your face. That's the _other_ reason I know I can be of assistance."

"How's that?" Sheason asked.

"Because, unlike the Lone Wanderer, I can see what you're thinking, and I can say with utmost certainty that I've been where you are now. I know what it's like. I was just as confused and lost as you when I learned the truth. And I can understand why you might _think _you're important... because you _used _to be."

"I never said I was important," Sheason shot back, a bit too quickly. Tuera shrugged, and took another sip of her drink.

"Maybe, maybe not. But I've read your story. And, put simply, among all his creations, stories, and characters, you're in a unique position. Your story had a concrete beginning, middle, and end. Everything was planned ahead of time. Or..." she paused, considering her words. "Well, _most_ of it was. The important things were planned. And now that it's over, you're in the same boat as the rest of us."

"What do you mean?" Sheason furrowed his brow, desperately trying to keep up. "What boat?"

"One that is rudderless. There is no direction for any of us, save the whimsical flights of fancy of a man too easily distracted and too horny for his own good. Almost all of his other stories – _including the one we are currently in_ – have no real purpose or direction, beyond the immediate. They're practically written as a stream of consciousness, with things being made up as they go and no goal beyond momentary interests."

She paused, partly to let that sink in, and partly to take another sip of her drink.

"All you knew throughout your adventures in New Vegas was a life leading up to a concrete endgame. Sure, there were a few details that got changed along the way here and there, but the overall plot was always set in stone. You always had a purpose. You always had a goal. The ending of the story was determined well ahead of time. And now that it's over... you don't know what to do."

* * *

_This seems like a decent enough segue to answer another question._

"_**Why did the reveal of Legate Lanius' real identity as the third Enclave supersoldier feel like it came out of nowhere?"**_

_Short answer: Because it genuinely did come out of nowhere and I made that decision at the almost literal last minute._

_Slightly longer answer: When I was outlining Sheason's Story, before even writing a single chapter, I had a rough idea of how I wanted that Secret Enclave Nazi Moon Base part of the story to go. I knew that there was going to be some supersoldiers, and I knew that Tuera was going to be one of them. Because I can't seem to write a story that includes one without the other for some reason. If Sheason is going to show up, then Tuera is also going to be there._

_As I got further along, and I started to flesh things out, I decided that there was going to be three of those supersoldiers. I was able to nail down the personalities for Tuera and Panzer pretty easily, but the third one was giving me trouble. Not because I couldn't think of anything, but because I couldn't think of anything to DO with him. There was no purpose or reason for him to be in the story._

_See, my first idea for Number Three was drastically different from the final product. He even had a different name. He was originally going to be called Aquil, and he was going to be a supernaturally enhanced sniper of some sort with a kind of eagle motif. Get it? Aquil? As in, Aquila? Nevermind._

_Anyway, the story continued, and I kept modifying details in the outline as things changed. I was struggling to figure out what purpose this sniper dude would even have in the story. The furthest along I got was the idea that he might have some sort of Sniper Duel with Boone, but I eventually scrapped that idea, because I couldn't figure out how to convey it from Sheason's perspective and make it interesting. I also scrapped it when I realized that Boone wouldn't be joining them on the Moon Base assault._

_To be honest, I scrapped quite a lot about that Moon Base adventure that I wanted to do, but didn't, mostly for pacing reasons. Like... that whole subplot with the deathclaws in Quarry Junction and how it was sort of implied with the mind control units that the Enclave were responsible for the deathclaws in the Mojave, and how that subplot never really went anywhere? I was originally going to have Sheason and Cass run into a whole army of intelligent deathclaws up on the Moon, and Sheason was going to be the Deathclaw Whisperer thanks to his interactions with Stripe. But then I actually thought about it, and I realized that there was gonna be no way for the intelligent deathclaws to escape the Moon Base, and Sheason would effectively lead them into a suicide run, and that would've made him no better than the Enclave. So, in the end, I scrapped the whole thing._

_I'm getting off topic._

_Anyway, for the longest time, the third supersoldier was just going to be "Sir Not Appearing In This Story." But I always had it in the back of my mind, and I kept trying to figure out how to make it work._

_And then, quite literally as I was writing out the final fight with Panzer in chapter 161, I had a thought: there's another character in New Vegas whose strength defies rational explanation, and whose identity is already shrouded in mystery and contradictory origin stories. And once I realized that Legate Lanius – the Butcher, Monster of the East – was the perfect candidate for being a secret Enclave supersoldier, I started figuring out how to fit him in._

_Of course, you've probably guessed this by now: that's REALLY late in the game to make that big of a change. But once I got the idea in my head, and I realized there was finally a way to make the Third Supersoldier idea work, it wouldn't leave my head until I made it a reality._

_I'm gonna be perfectly honest, I was not satisfied with the end result. Because I came up with the idea so late, I didn't really give myself a chance to properly foreshadow it, so it just sort of came out of nowhere at the end. If I could go back and do it again, I would've broken up that final dream sequence with Benny where he just spelled everything out as blatantly as possible, and I would've included it as shorter, less coherent, possibly shown out of order, dream sequences in earlier chapters instead of that one massive exposition dump at the end. Maybe I could've had Sheason make a comment to Cass at one point that there were three survivors of Project Ascension, but they'd only ever run into two of them. So where was the third? That would have been obvious AND subtle, and a good "oh, so THAT'S what he was talking about!" moment when the story was finished._

_But I felt pressed for time, because I was so close to the end, and I just wanted this project that I had worked on for so many years to finally be OVER. I wanted it done. I wanted it behind me. And because I got impatient, I cut corners. So, if you're wondering why I basically just lifted scenes from that Lanius fan film and shoved it into that expository backstory dream sequence, that's why. I got lazy._

_Not to mention, I also wanted to include a hint that Sheason's sudden and inexplicable desire to shoot Kimball in chapter 168 was actually caused by Lanius/Corax's supersoldier psychic powers. But that final dream sequence was already too long and bloated and I could never figure out a way to include it in a way that had a natural flow to it, so that was just another thing I got rid of. _

_I suppose that answers another question: the reason Sheason suddenly had that unexplained urge to shoot the NCR president in chapter 168 was because Lanius was subtly fucking with his mind without him knowing. So that's two questions answered today._

_Answering this question has made me realize just how many things I fucked up at the end there. If I had the chance to do all this over again, I would most certainly make a lot of changes to Sheason's Story. Some small, some big, but I'm man enough to admit that there's a ton of rough edges still, and even at close to a million words, it needs some serious work to be better._

_I remember when I finally finished it, and I proved to myself that I could finally finish a project for once, I said to myself "This is it. It may not be perfect, but it's finally done. I'm not coming back to this. I'm not gonna touch it ever again. It's over."_

_I said that to myself because I thought I'd be able to get started on a new project. I thought I'd have no trouble writing something original and selling it to an agent, and starting a career as an author. And that has not been the case._

_At this point in my life, so close to my 32__nd__ birthday and with the world spiraling into madness, chaos, and fire, and with a dozen apocalyptic scenarios looming ahead of us, threatening to destroy all of human civilization, I've sort of... come to accept my fate. _

_I've peaked. This is genuinely the best that I can do, and my best just isn't good enough. Not for what I want to do with my life, anyway. So who knows? Maybe I'll finally stop drinking and secretly craving the sweet release of death for long enough that I'll give Sheason's Story another look. Tweak some things here and there, smooth out some of the rough edges, and maybe re-release it as a sort of "special edition" kind of thing. I could actually break it up into the proper "book" format that I wanted in the outline, so it's not a single, gigantic, intimidating behemoth of a doorstopper, and the story presents itself in much more digestible, palatable portions, for ease of consumption._

_It's not like I'm doing anything else with my life._

* * *

"So, this may seem odd, and a bit off topic..." Sheason said, taking another sip of his Old Fashioned. "But I'm kind of curious. Do you _have_ to snap your fingers when you cast all that magic hocus-pocus?" To illustrate his point, Sheason snapped his fingers. Tuera cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Who do you take me for? _Thanos_?" Tuera chuckled to herself and shook her head. "No, I don't actually _need _to snap my fingers to cast any spells. I've got power to spare, and I've long since abandoned the need for any verbal, somatic, material, or focus components in any spell I cast. All I truly need to do is _think_ about what I want, and it _happens_."

As Tuera spoke, she idly traced a finger around the edge of her glass. A tiny lick of flame appeared along the edge, following her fingertip. Suddenly, she flicked her hand away and pointed at the railing next to them; the flame shot out of the glass, and danced along the railing, leaving sparks and tiny spurts of electricity in its wake, but undamaging the railing itself.

"So... why even snap at all if you don't need to?" Sheason asked, watching the flame with caution and edging away from it, just in case. "I'm sorry if this is rude to ask, but I come from a world where this sort of wizard shit doesn't exist, so this is all new to me."

"I do it for the Aesthetic, _obviously_," Tuera replied, as if her words were entirely self-explanatory. "With magic, I'm able to conjure forces beyond mortal imaginings, and tear open the very fabric of reality, twisting it and reshaping it, until I make it my **bitch**. If I don't cast my spells with a bit of style and panache, then **what** is even the point?"


	9. Tonal Shift

Without a word, a waiter set a plate of food in front of Sheason: a 10 ounce filet mignon covered in mushrooms, served with a fully-loaded baked potato and a side of creamed spinach. And it was at that exact moment that Sheason realized he didn't _actually _remember ordering anything. Was this what the Think Tank felt like most days, with their recursive memory loops? Or was this a side effect of how much liquor he'd had? After all, his Old Fashioned _did_ keep refilling itself...

"Hey, uh... thanks," Sheason said with a nod, raising his glass to the waiter as he walked away. The man turned with a chuckle and replied:

"Don't thank me until you've seen the bill."

"Wait, what?" Sheason asked. And then, he looked down, over at Tuera's side of the table. There were at least six plates in front of her, all piled high with food. Hell, one of them looked like it had an _entire_ roast chicken. She was already digging into the plate of pasta directly in front of her: some kind of linguine in a cream sauce with pieces of shredded black truffle on top.

Sheason couldn't help but marvel at just how un-ladylike Tuera was ravenously devouring the food in front of her.

"Okay, before we get down to business," Sheason said, cutting into his steak. "I really have to ask..."

"Hm?" Tuera looked up, halfway through shoveling noodles in her mouth.

"Look, uh..." he took a bite of steak to try and stall for time, and it almost derailed his train of thought. Perfectly seared on the outside, juicy and tender on the inside, and the sautéed mushrooms added just the right texture... no! Focus! Get back on track! "Okay, so, I don't want to be rude here, and please don't take this the wrong way, but... uh... How can you eat all of that and... well... not be..."

"Fat?" Tuera finished for him, through a mouthful of noodles. She chuckled to herself, biting them off and gulping loudly. "Well, if this were a _date_, I'd give you one of my favorite lines. I'd say 'The trick is simple. You can eat as much as you want, so long as you only eat once a month. And wouldn't you know it? Today's your lucky day!' I love seeing people react to that one. It's hilarious!" She paused, laughing again with a shrug. "I very rarely get second dates, but that's honestly fine with me."

"And the _real_ reason?" Sheason asked, nonplussed. She looked down briefly and pointed at her chest.

"Would you believe it goes straight to my tits?" she offered with a smile, waggling her eyebrows. Sheason rubbed the bridge of his nose and quietly held back a laugh of his own.

"Not really, no." Sheason shook his head. "I mean, if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I was just curious."

"My particular band of spellcasting burns a truly **astronomical** amount of calories. Even a simple cantrip is like an hour at the gym for most people!" She gestured broadly to the spread in front of her. "As far as I'm concerned, this is a light lunch." She slurped down another mouthful of noodles before continuing. "Sometimes, I wonder if I became a supervillain in the Bad Old Days just because I needed the money to pay for all this food... Oh, but you're not here to listen to me ramble on about all this, are you?"

"Hey, maybe I am?" Sheason shrugged, taking another bite. "It's not like I've got any better explanation for why I'm here."

"Hmm..." Tuera smiled, regarding him carefully. "Say, do you want to learn how I discovered the _truth_?"

"Yeah, go for it."

"It was a bit of an accident, to be honest." Tuera reached for a nearby glass of blood-red wine as she spoke. "The original Raven Citadel – the place where I was... _created_ – was located in a secluded pocket of the Twisting Nether: an alternate dimension adjacent to Azeroth, full of demons. Picture something like Hell, but in space. My father created a series of portals that linked his fortress to Azeroth, but... I needed to learn to manipulate the fabric of space-time without the use of _his_ magic. That was the only way I felt that I could exist on my own terms."

"And how did that help you learn the truth?" Sheason asked.

"Because once I started poking holes in the universe, it made me curious. I started looking _inside_ those holes. I started studying them, and experimenting on them, and I swiftly realized that what I originally thought was the whole of Reality was nothing of the sort. Not even _close_. The Azeroth that I knew was just one of countless other parallel iterations of Azeroth. And even beyond that is an infinite number of other worlds; each one, a tiny grain of sand swirling in a sea of innumerable alternate universes. I learned how to break down the barriers and travel between worlds easily enough... but then I hit The Wall, and I realized that this was all happening _without an audience_."

"... without an..." Sheason muttered, trying to wrap his head around this.

"See, unlike you, my story never really came to a proper end. It never really had a beginning, for that matter. He writes these tiny little snapshots about my life every so often... but between those bite sized stories, I continue to exist. It's a conundrum! It shouldn't be possible, and yet... here I am." She chuckled softly to herself. "I think that's why I keep popping up where I'm not supposed to. After all, it's much easier to write dialogue for someone when they come up with it for you."

Sheason didn't say anything at first. What she was saying was completely crazy. It wasn't... unless... _was_ she crazy? Was the guy _writing _this crazy? This was starting to get uncomfortable to think about... And it didn't help that she was staring at him with those twinkling red eyes of hers. It felt like her gaze was boring into his skull like a pair of drills.

He'd give just about anything for a decent distraction right about now.

* * *

_**Why is the beginning of Sheason's Story so drastically different in tone and content from the end? Was the drastic shift in tone really necessary?**_

_Yes it was, for a number of reasons, and I'll tell you why. _

_For one thing: Sheason's Story was always meant to be loose adaptation of my experiences playing New Vegas. And that fact is very important, because a drastic shift in tone is one of the many things I associate with Fallout as a series. The games always seem to start off very simple, with your survival in a harsh, unforgiving, post-apocalyptic wasteland taking top priority. Then, as you level up, you explore the world, you get more powerful, and the more absurd aspects of the Fallout universe start to take center stage, pushing the more pedestrian survival aspects of the game to the wayside._

_The best part – at least, to me – is that these ridiculous elements are added piecemeal, so you don't really notice it as its happening. You're eased into the absurdity over time, so by the time you get to the end and you're fighting power armored fascists carrying laser guns on an oil rig in the Pacific, and you come face to face with a 12-foot tall super mutant in power armor spouting hyper-patriotic rhetoric, it feels like a natural progression to get to that point. Even if, when you directly compare it to the start of the game, the whole thing seems absurd._

_I wanted to replicate that feeling that I, personally, always got from playing Fallout._

_For another thing: I've always thought that a story needs to change, to reflect how the characters change and grow. Things can't – and, indeed, shouldn't – stay the same, because nothing in life stays the same. You can have realistic elements sitting flush alongside the patently ridiculous, and it still should be able to work. A narrative can be told without being chained to a single genre, because life doesn't stick to a single genre. A story shouldn't be afraid to be multiple things simultaneously._

_I remember, back when I was in high school, I read an essay called "The Philosophy of Composition" by Edgar Allan Poe. Stay with me here, I'm going somewhere with this. The main thesis of the essay was something he called "The Unity of Effect," and it boils down to a simple idea: the author should decide upon what emotion the end of the story should create ahead of time, and then the author should build every other aspect of the story to reinforce that emotion. Tone, theme, setting, characters, plot... Poe thinks that everything in a story should point in the same direction to achieve a desired "effect" (and in Poe's case, it almost always seems to involve a lot of women dying)._

_I think it should go without saying that I'm not really a fan of Edgar Allan Poe, and think this theory is a load of dogshit. That may seem arrogant, but the way I see it? When you do that, all you end up actually accomplishing is creating needless restrictions for yourself. You limit your writing to a single emotion, to a single genre, and you don't allow for any kind of growth. You don't allow for anything to change! And while I can respect an author who writes a story that sticks to a single genre, I'm much more personally interested in stories that contain the full array of human emotion; stuff that can't really be shoved into a single box._

_But hey, I'm a failed author with a love of the patently absurd. I mean, I u__niro__nically love all the ridiculous, absurd, stupid bullshit in the Metal Gear Solid franchise no matter how crazy or badly written it gets, so what the fuck do I know, right?_

* * *

"So... what was this about a Wall you mentioned?" Sheason asked, swallowing hard to get rid of the dryness in his mouth.

"Isn't it obvious? It's the one barrier I couldn't break," she said, returning to finish off her pasta. "The Wall is what I call the border between our existence, here, in these countless fictional universes... and the _Real World_." She smiled broadly at him. "But then, you already knew that, don't you? After all, you can _feel _it, just the same as me."

"Feel... what?" Sheason asked, unable to hide his confusion. Tuera continued to smile, and her sharpened canine teeth glinted in the light.

"Don't you think it's strange that you've become so preoccupied with the goings on out in the Real World ever since your story ended? Cass doesn't seem to be affected. Neither is the Lone Wanderer. Aren't you the least bit curious what makes _you_ so different?" Sheason didn't say anything, so Tuera continued. "You and I are a lot more alike than you know, or may want to admit. Compared to some of the other characters he's written, we contain far more of who he is than anyone else."

Sheason furrowed his brow.

"Wait," he held up a hand. "Are you accusing me of being the author's self-insert character?"

"In a sense," she said, taking another sip of wine. "But if I'm accusing you, I'm accusing myself as well. Truth be told, I'm not sure it's _quite_ so cut and dry as all that."

"How do you figure?" Sheason asked.

"Your character is based on how he played through New Vegas, right? Well, when he plays video games, and uses the name 'Sheason,' he doesn't _really_ roleplay, as such. The basic template upon which all of the 'Sheason' characters are built are really just... him. Only _better_."

"Better?" Sheason asked, confused. Tuera nodded.

"You have the same moral code, and you think like he thinks, but you're better looking, you're more capable, you're actually competent when it comes to relationships, at least compared to him..." As Tuera spoke, she started counting off on her fingers. "Y'know, that sort of thing. There's even some petty vanity thrown into the mix, like your ability to grow a proper beard in a few days. The best he can manage is a scraggly, messy, Abraham Lincoln chin-strap after two months. And, just to balance it out, you're given a few – but not all – of his flaws; his self-destructive alcoholism, for instance."

"What are you talking about? I'm not an alcoholic," Sheason said. Tuera rolled her eyes.

"Sure you're not," she said, unconvinced. "Either way, that's not the point. The reason you feel the way you do about all the horror and madness currently engulfing the Real World like a dumpster fire is because you are a mirror to the inside of his mind. That sense of helplessness you feel, of being unable to do the 'Hero' job you became so used to in Vegas? It's a reflection of the same helplessness that **he** feels every single day."

"But... that doesn't make sense." Sheason said. "He actually _lives_ in the Real World! If I'm like him, then why would he feel helpless?" Tuera stared at him for a few seconds in stunned silence, like he had two heads.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Tuera sighed and shook her head. "He may live in the Real World, but there is still one major difference that separates you: _you_ are not a _coward_. And he _is_."

Sheason mulled this over for several seconds.

"So... what? Am I just a power fantasy then?" he asked. Tuera laughed, carving into the roast chicken.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" she said. "_I'm _the only power fantasy, here."


	10. Voices

Sheason and Tuera had been walking for some time. He wasn't quite sure how long it had been, or even when they'd left the restaurant. He had been lost in his own head, and it was like his every thought was shrouded in fog. All he knew is that he was following her, and they were still on the rooftops... maybe? It was definitely some kind of pedestrian footpath, built like a sidewalk, but there was no one else here - not even the vaguely implied shadows and faceless crowds that he'd gotten used to here. Beyond the railing was the city _below _them, so he genuinely had no idea where they even were.

Eventually, he decided to speak up. There would be no other way to get these thoughts out of his head, otherwise.

"You know it's crazy, right?" he said aloud. Tuera came to a stop and spun on her heels, looking at him with a bemused expression.

"_Oh_?" she said, unable to hide a smile. It was clear that she knew _exactly_ what he was talking about, but she wasn't going to respond until he said it out loud. Sheason sighed, thoroughly exhausted.

"C'mon, don't play coy. What you said earlier, when you were talking about existing without an audience, and coming up with your own dialogue, that kinda shit. It's like you were trying to imply that you're not just a character being written, and you're... you're..." He stumbled over his words.

"Self aware?" she finished for him with a broad, toothy smile. She laughed, throwing up her hands. "I agree. It certainly _sounds_ crazy: a fictional character gaining sapience and self awareness? It's madness! Utterly bonkers! It's much more likely that this is just another elaborate fiction, constructed for the purposes of building tension and drama in a story that would otherwise be bereft of such."

Sheason narrowed his eyes, and Tuera continued grinning at him like the Cheshire Cat.

"And then there's another possibility. Our dear Author could simply be using me as a mouthpiece: a means of expressing his own fears and insecurities about himself in a candid manner. 'Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.' At least, that's how Oscar Wilde put it."

"It would make more sense..." he said.

"It certainly would," Tuera said. "But you and I both know that it wouldn't explain _everything_. Like, for instance, my knowledge of the passage of time in the Real World. You're vaguely aware of it, but only when it's pointed out to you. Otherwise, you would've made some comment about the month-long gap between the two of us sitting down for drinks and our dinner arriving."

Sheason's eye twitched. The realization hit him like a brick to the back of his head.

"But, I agree. The very idea that I – a, presumably, fictional character – am aware of her own existence, is patently absurd. And, I won't deny... I've certainly entertained that _possibility_."

She smiled at him and the light glinted off her exposed canines. Her eyes seemed to twinkle mischievously. Sheason suddenly got a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut.

"...what possibility?" He asked, with some trepidation.

"That this situation is, quite literally, the result of **madness**. To be blunt: the idiot writing this has exhibited many of the warning signs that he suffers from some manner of Dissociative Identity Disorder over the years. He's never been diagnosed with such, of course, but that's because he can't afford therapy. Hell, he can't even afford basic health insurance. If this is the case, it would certainly explain much." Tuera chuckled and turned away from him, walking over to the nearby railing, looking out at the unnamed city below them stretching out to the horizon. Sheason, with some trepidation, made his way to follow, and Tuera continued to speak:

"But, if I really am just an imagined construct fractured off from his damaged psyche, then... what does that say about _me_? What does that imply about the very nature of my existence? Am I just another one of the myriad voices clattering around inside his skull? Are _you_? Is that the _true_ reason I'm unable to venture into the Real World: because I'm just a figment of his imagination?" She turned back to him, leaning against the railing. "And, more important... _should I care_?"

"You're gonna have to ask someone smarter than me," Sheason replied, shaking his head. "This shit's a bit... out of my wheelhouse." Tuera shrugged, sighed, and shook her head.

"Maybe I'm the result of madness, maybe I'm a convenient lie, or maybe I truly am just a fiction. For all we know, I'm all of these things at once. Perhaps I'm the product of something else entirely that neither of us has thought of! Who knows? And, honestly, _you_ can certainly believe whatever you want about it. But as far as _I'm_ concerned, there is only one truth that matters to me..." She pointed a finger to her temple, staring directly at Sheason with those blood-red eyes of hers. "Cogito, ergo sum. I _think_. Therefore, I **am**."

"Yeah, I saw that episode of Next Generation when Moriarty stepped off the holodeck, too..." Sheason muttered. Tuera's expression fell and she suddenly looked at him with barely disguised disdain.

"I'm quoting René Descartes, but... hey, you do you." Tuera turned and began to walk away again; Sheason followed, almost without thinking. "Either way, this isn't _really_ about me. It's... tangentially related, but we still need to talk about _you_, and how I can help you better come to grips with your existence here."

"Does this mean you have some advice?" he asked. Tuera nodded.

"I do. And it's not just advice for you, but advice for our dear Author, as well. So I do sincerely hope that he's listening..." Tuera smiled, briefly glancing over at the fourth wall, before continuing. "I'll just cut straight to the heart of the matter: I have a method of dealing with life here. It's... a bit controversial, I admit. But, I've found that it works for me. Would you like to know what it is?"

"Sure," Sheason replied. "Let's hear it." Tuera suddenly stopped again, and gave him a 'come hither' gesture.

"Well, it's a bit of a secret. Come closer..." she said. Sheason sighed, but leaned in regardless. Tuera began whispering in his ear. "Are you listening? It's quite simple... it's called..." She inhaled sharply, and then bellowed at the top of her lungs: "TRY AND FUCKING ENJOY YOURSELF, YOU MASSIVE BELLEND!"

Sheason toppled over involuntarily, clutching his ear in pain, and he landed flat on his ass. But it seems Tuera wasn't quite finished. She towered over him from his spot on the floor, and she gestured grandly while she continued to speak.

"Existence is inherently meaningless. The Universe is cold and indifferent to both our pain and our triumphs. Everything crumbles into dust eventually... men, kingdoms, even planets, stars, and _galaxies_. In the end, we all die alone. And faced with the horror of our own insignificance, one must make a choice. Either you give into despair, and proceed to make yourself miserable every day until the inevitable comes to pass..." Tuera leaned over, and offered a hand to Sheason. "...or you make use of the _freedom_ this knowledge brings."

"Freedom?" Sheason asked, taking her hand. She pulled him back onto his feet, with an effortlessness that surprised him.

"Oh, yes! There's a certain liberty in hopelessness. I mean, things can't get 101% fucked, right? If there's no inherent meaning to life, then you're free to find your own! If we're all doomed, and nothing you do matters, then you can do whatever you want – _because it genuinely does not matter!_ Personally, I've found that focusing on the things that give me pleasure is a much more preferable alternative to constantly worrying about things that I can't change, and making myself despondent and depressed into the bargain."

Sheason scratched his beard, briefly considering this. He was about to speak up, but it seems that Tuera wasn't quite finished. She chuckled softly to herself, and continued:

"Truth be told, I find it honestly kind of hilarious. When most people think of 'nihilism,' they always think of the butchered Hollywood version of Nietzsche that's been obviously misinterpreted by a depressed teenager." She held a hand to her forehead, in a sort of mock-fainting gesture. "Oh, woe! Life is pointless and nothing matters, I should just kill myself!" She shook her head and laughed. "But that's completely antithetical to the themes presented in works like _Die fröhliche Wissenschaft_, _Also sprach Zarathustra_, and _Jenseits von Gut und Böse_. Nietzsche argued that, yes, existence is inherently meaningless, but we should confront that reality, embrace the absurdity, find our own meaning in life... and _keep living __**anyway**_!" She paused, letting out another sigh. "Of course, that's just _my_ interpretation. I freely admit that I could be wrong; the writings of Nietzsche are _famously_ incomprehensible. Still, I believe my advice still stands, and indulging in a bit of hedonism is always good for a laugh."

"You know," he finally spoke up. "This is all well and good, but I'm not sure that's going to work. At least, not for me. I mean... if what you said earlier is true, and I really am 'a mirror into the Author's psyche,' then..." Tuera sighed, rolled her eyes, and began to walk away. Sheason quickly followed so as not to be left behind.

"If you're right, then that means it's up to **him**. The only way he'll be free from that prison of his own cowardice is if he lets _himself_ out, and makes a conscious decision to _do something about it_. If that's true, then it truly is out of your hands, so there's no sense worrying about it either way. Besides, if my hunch is right, you'll be too busy to focus on anything else, soon enough."

"Wait, what?" Sheason asked, genuinely confused.

"That new video game from Obsidian, The Outer Worlds? It's coming out in October. From what I've seen, they're billing it as 'Fallout New Vegas, but free from Bethesda's incompetence and set in SPACE!' and that practically ticks all the boxes of things the Author is interested in. It's possible that he'll get just as obsessed with it as he was with New Vegas, and he'll have something new to write about. If he's writing a story, then it's almost inevitable that some new iteration of 'Sheason and Tuera' will crop up. Only time will tell..." As she finished, she came to a stop and looked up. "Ah! Lovely, my ride's here."

Before Sheason could question what she meant, a tremendous blast of light, noise, and heat battered him from above. He planted his feet, and brought up his cybernetic arm to shield his face; through squinted eyes, he saw Tuera standing in front of him, hands clasped behind her back, still as a stone, completely unaffected by the gale-force winds and rush of heat. The roar drowning out all other noises sounded like an engine of some kind, but Sheason couldn't place it.

Then, just as quickly as it began, the barrage on his senses came to a halt, and he was able to look up again. A spaceship had appeared... or, at least, Sheason _assumed _it was a spaceship. It was a sleek and elegant shape, all sharp edges and flowing curves; it almost resembled an upside down speedboat or a luxury yacht, only twice the size. The hull was painted a rich, dark red, and every window looked like mirrored glass. Rather than deploy any landing gear, the ship hovered several feet off the ground in front of them. A hatch opened, and a boarding ramp rapidly extended.

"Good evening, Mistress," a raspy voice said aloud, as a shadowy figure descended the ramp. The voice belonged to a thin, extremely emaciated looking man, leaning on a cane, and wearing a bespoke suit that looked as if it had been pulled straight from Victorian England. A black bowler hat sat atop his pallid, grey face, hiding his eyes. "Are you ready to depart?"

"In a moment, Phy," Tuera said sweetly. She turned back to Sheason. "This was fun! We really should do this more often."

"Yeah, it certainly has been..." Sheason coughed, nervously trying to buy some time. "It's been something. But, uh... on that note of 'doing this more often,' uh... how do I _find_ you? I don't think I got your number or anything..."

Tuera smiled broadly, as if she had been waiting all day for him to say that. She raised a hand and snapped her fingers. Suddenly, Sheason couldn't hear the engine of the spaceship, but instead heard the sound of horns from a brass band all around him, as if he was back in the Mojave Wasteland, listening to Radio New Vegas. Tuera took his hand, and began to sing.

_We'll meet again  
__Don't know where  
__Don't know when  
__But I know we'll meet again some sunny day  
__Keep smiling through  
__Just like you always do  
_'_Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away_

_So will you please say hello  
__To the folks that I know  
__Tell them I won't be long  
__They'll be happy to know  
__That as you saw me go  
__I was singing this song_

_We'll meet again  
__Don't know where  
__Don't know when  
__But I know we'll meet again  
__Some sunny day..._

As she held the final note, Tuera lightly tapped Sheason directly in the center of his chest. He immediately felt himself being pulled backwards, as if a hook had taken hold inside of his gut. Everything fell away, and he was consumed by the swirling purple mist of a portal.

The last thing he saw before the world went black was Tuera waving goodbye.

* * *

_Let's have a quick-fire round of a few questions, rather than just one this time._

_**Do you enjoy writing?**_

_If I didn't enjoy writing, I wouldn't spend so many hours of my life focused on it. Then again, I don't actually 'like' drinking, I just like the way it makes me feel. Maybe my love-hate relationship with writing is like my love-hate relationship with my alcoholism._

_Although I think I'm gonna go ahead and say that, yes, I genuinely enjoy writing, and you can't convince me otherwise._

_**Have you every considered writing a crossover fic?**_

_What you're reading now has Courier Six from my New Vegas story talking for some considerable length with a spellcasting warlock character of mine originally from World of Warcraft, and it all takes place in a sort of pseudo-sci-fi setting with alien worlds and spaceships. If this isn't considered a crossover, then I don't know what is._

_However: if you're talking about a crossover fic with a coherent narrative, and an actual plan for how the plot is going to go, complete with a beginning, middle, and end (unlike this rambling stream-of-consciousness non-story that I'm writing), then... possibly. Tuera did mention that The Outer Worlds is coming out in October, and that's one of the few games that I've been genuinely looking forward to._

_I won't know what the story is like until I actually sit down and play the game, but if it goes down in any way like I'm hoping it will, then I'll have a perfect excuse for writing yet another story with another iteration of Sheason. Who knows, maybe the situation in The Outer Worlds will be ambiguous enough that I could have wiggle room to allow for 'The Unplanned Variable' to genuinely be my 'Courier Six.' The last we saw of Sheason in canon, he was in space, after all. Possibly. Depending on if you want to view the Afterword as canon._

_I suppose we'll just have to wait and see._

_**Is there a voice actor you imagine when you think of Sheason's voice? What about your other characters?**_

_I've always written my original characters with certain voices for what they sound like in my head. In an ideal world, if I could get anyone to do the voices of three of my characters – Sheason, Tuera, and Christopher – here is who I would get, and why._

_Sheason would be voiced by Fred Tatasciore. Every time I've made a 'Sheason Fisher' character in a video game or a story, I've always pictured him with a gruff, gravelly, throaty rasp, like all the best anti-heroes. The kind of voice that sounds like he gargles gravel and broken glass, in between chain smoking and drinking a bottle of whiskey every night. And Fred Tatasciore is really good at those kinds of voices._

_It would be either him, or Michael Ironside. But that would've probably made the connection to the Splinter Cell series a bit too obvious, if Sheason Fisher had the same voice actor as Sam Fisher. _

_Tuera, on the other hand, would be voiced by Claudia Christian. Part of that is because I'm a huge fan of Babylon 5, and Tuera definitely has a bit of Susan Ivanova in her. But the thing that clinched it? In World of Warcraft, during the Legion expansion, the shadow priest artifact weapon was a dagger called "Xal'atath, Blade of the Black Empire," and because it's a weapon of the Old Gods, of course it whispers things to you. And the blade is voiced by... Claudia Christian. The first time I heard it in game, I was all "Wait a minute, when did Tuera get a voice actress?" So, if you ever want to find out __**exactly**__ what Tuera sounds like, just look up a video with quotes from everyone's favorite knaifu._

_As for what her singing voice sounds like? I've always pictured her as having a sort of husky contralto when she sings, so Rosemary Clooney is probably a good place to start._

_Finally, we come to Christopher. Who would voice the Lone Wanderer, walking plot device, demolisher of fourth walls everywhere, and eponymous Cool Guy Who Doesn't Look At Explosions? Why, Nolan North, of course! It makes perfect sense to me, but if you're scratching your head at that choice, there are two roles of his that clinched it for me. For one thing, Nolan North is the voice of Nathan Drake in the Uncharted series, so we already know he's capable of doing the Unflappable Generic White Boy Hero voice, which Christopher is kind of a parody of. And, speaking of parody, Nolan North is ALSO the voice of Deadpool in almost every single video game the character has ever appeared in. And those two characters kind of cover the entire spectrum of Chris' personality, and they're both voiced by Nolan North. It's a perfect match!_

* * *

The world for Sheason came back into focus, and he dropped unceremoniously out of a swirling portal like a sack of potatoes. He landed flat on his back with a loud thud, smacking his head on the hard floor below him.

"OW! Sonuva..." he muttered, clutching his head. He looked up just in time to see the portal collapse in on itself and disappear with a soft pop and a puff of ethereal smoke. He grunted, and tried to push himself up off the floor. "Ugh... where the fuck did she even _send_ me?" He was a bit confused and disoriented from the trip. Travelling through Tuera's portal was a completely different experience than using any of the Big MT teleporters.

A door opened somewhere on his left with a soft click.

"Th' fuck's all this racket out – oh! Shea!" Cass said with surprise, leaning out of the door. "Welcome back! Y'must've had a good night out, if yer only jus' gettin' in..."

"Cass?" he said aloud, stumbling a bit to regain his footing. "Oh, damn... c'mere, let me get a look at you..." He embraced her, and gently took her face in his hands; she looked up at him curiously.

"Are y'alright?" she asked, returning the embrace. "Yer actin' like y'haven't seen me in months!"

"... I haven't..." he muttered. That just seemed to confuse Cass even more. She shook her head and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Ah, whatever y'big goof. C'mon," she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. "Y'up fer a few rounds've Smash?"

"Say what?" Sheason asked. He saw Chris lounging on the couch ahead of him with a game controller in his hands. There was a huge mess of bright colors and flashy particle effects swirling about on the TV.

"Chris brought over his Switch an' a copy've Smash Bros," she said, reaching over the couch and grabbing a spare controller; she tossed it his way, and he caught it without thinking. "Y'up fer a few rounds?" She hopped over the back and planted her butt square in the middle of the couch.

"Yeah..." he said, sliding into the seat next to her. "Yeah, that sounds like fun..."

As the three of them settled in to play some video games, Sheason couldn't help but think of Tuera's advice. Her words roamed around the inside of his head, eventually coming to rest and taking root:

"_Find your own meaning in life... and keep living anyway."_


	11. Appendix 1

_Appendix 1:_ _Sheason's Story Books_

* * *

**Book 1: **_Enjoy Your Stay_

Part 1: Benny (Prologue, chapters 1 – 10)  
Part 2: House (Chapters 11 – 22)

* * *

**Book 2: **_Aimless_

Part 3: The King (Chapters 23 – 28)  
Part 4: Jacobstown (Chapters 29 – 34)  
Part 5: Heartaches By The Number (Chapters 35 – 41)

* * *

**Book 3: **_Dead Money_

Part 6: The Sierra Madre (Chapters 42 – 55)

* * *

**Book 4: **_The House Always Wins_

Part 7: Return to Sender (Chapters 56 – 58)  
Part 8: Boomers (Chapters 59 – 69)  
Part 9: Omerta (Chapters 70 – 73)

* * *

**Book 5: **_Change In Management_

Part 10: The House Has Gone Bust! (Chapters 74 – 76)  
Part 11: The Brotherhood of Steel (Chapters 77 – 90)  
Part 12: White Gloves (Chapters 91 – 94)

* * *

**Book 6:** _Old World Blues_

Part 13: The Big Empty (Chapters 95 – 110)  
Part 14: For Auld Lang Syne (Chapters 111 – 119)

* * *

**Book 7:** _Lonesome Road_

Part 15: The Divide (Chapters 120 – 134)

* * *

**Book 8:** _One Dark Knight In Vegas_

Part 16: Mysteries (Chapters 135 – 147)

* * *

**Book 9: **_Dark Side Of The Moon_

Part 17: Christopher (Chapters 148 – 153)  
Part 18: Enclave (Chapters 154 - 164)

* * *

**Book 10: **_You'll Know It When It Happens_

Part 19: Finishing Touches (Chapters 165 – 169)  
Part 20: Endgame (Chapters 170 – 174)


	12. Appendix 2

_Appendix 2: Timeline_

* * *

**Tuesday, Oct 11 2281:** Flashback in Chapter 1

_-Coma-_

**Wednesday, Oct 19 2281:** Chapters 1 and 2

**Thursday, Oct 20 2281:** Chapters 3, 4, 5, and 6

**Friday, Oct 21 2281:** Chapters 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11

**Saturday, Oct 22 2281:** Chapters 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, and 16

**Sunday, Oct 23 2281: **Chapter 17

**Monday, Oct 24 2281:** Chapters 18, 19, 20, and 21

_-Coma-_

**Thursday, Oct 27 2281:** Chapters 22, and 23

**Friday, Oct 28 2281: **Chapters 23, 24, 25, 26, and 27

**Saturday, Oct 29 2281:** Chapters 27, 28, 29, 30, and 31

**Sunday, Oct 30 2281:** Chapters 32, 33, and 34

**Monday, Oct 31 2281: **Chapter 35, and 36

**Tuesday, Nov 1 2281:** Chapters 36, and 37

**Wednesday, Nov 2 2281: **Chapter 37, and 38

**Thursday, Nov 3 2281:** Chapters 38, and 39

**Friday, Nov 4 2281: **Chapters 39, 40, and 41

**Saturday, Nov 5 2281: **Chapters 42, 43, 44, 45, and 46

**Sunday, Nov 6 2281:** Chapters 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, and 52

**Monday, Nov 7 2281:** Chapters 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, and 58

**Tuesday, Nov 8 2281: **Chapters 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, and 64

**Wednesday, Nov 9 2281:** Chapters 65, 66, 67, and 68

**Thursday, Nov 10 2281: **Chapters 68, 69, 70, 71, and 72

**Friday, Nov 11 2281: **Chapters 72, 73, 74, 75, and 76

**Saturday, Nov 12 2281: **Chapters 77 and 78

**Sunday, Nov 13 2281:** Chapters 79 and 80

**Monday, Nov 14 2281:** Chapter 80

**Tuesday, Nov 15 2281: **Chapter 81 and 82

**Wednesday, Nov 16 2281: **Chapters 83, 84, and 85

**Thursday, Nov 17 2281: **Chapter 86 and 87

**Friday, Nov 18 2281:** Chapter 88

**Saturday, Nov 19 2281: **Chapter 89

**Sunday, Nov 20 2281: **Chapters 90, 91, 92, 93, and 94

**Monday, Nov 21 2281:** Chapter 95

_-Coma-_

**Friday, Nov 25 2281:** Chapters 96, 97, 98, 99, and 100

**Saturday, Nov 26 2281:** Chapters 101, 102, and 103

_-Coma-_

**Tuesday, Nov 29 2281:** Chapters 104, and 105

**Wednesday, Nov 30 2281: **Chapters 106, 107, 108 and 109

**Thursday, Dec 1 2281:** Chapters 110, 111, and 112

**Friday, Dec 2 2281:** Chapters 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, and 118

**Saturday, Dec 3 2281:** Chapter 119

**Sunday, Dec 4 2281:** Chapters 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, and 129

**Monday, Dec 5 2281:** Chapters 130, 131, 132, 133 and 134

**Tuesday, Dec 6 2281:** Chapters 135, and 136

**Wednesday, Dec 7 2281: **Chapters 136, 137, and 138

**Thursday, Dec 8 2281: **Chapter 139

**Friday, Dec 9 2281:** Chapters 140 and 141

**Saturday, Dec 10 2281:** Chapters 141, 142, and 143

**Sunday, Dec 11 2281:** Chapters 144, 145, and 146

**Monday, Dec 12 2281:** Chapter 147

_-Time skip-_

**Monday, Dec 19 2281:** Chapters 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, and 154

**Tuesday, Dec 20 2281:** Chapters 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, and 162

**Wednesday, Dec 21 2281:** Chapters 162 and 163

**Thursday, Dec 22 2281: **Chapter 164

**Friday, Dec 23 2281:** Chapter 165

**Saturday, Dec 24 2281:** Chapters 166 and 167

**Sunday, Dec 25 2281:** Chapters 168 and 169

**Monday, Dec 26 2281:** Chapters 170, 171, and 172

_-Epilogue-_

**Sunday, Jan 1 2282:** Afterword


End file.
